


Trust

by whalehuntingboyfriends



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Angst, Fake AH Crew, GTA AU, Hurt/Comfort, OT6, a very sad roadtrip, freewood-centric OT6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-05-10 00:18:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 92,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5561485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whalehuntingboyfriends/pseuds/whalehuntingboyfriends
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a rival crew seems to know too much about them, Geoff hires a hacker to find out if there’s a mole in the Fake AH Crew. As it turns out, there are several, but they have a bigger problem - Gavin’s name is on the list. And when he runs away, leaving them with no explanation or answers, Ryan’s sent out to bring him back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Angelology](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelology/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A gift for Angelology/youre-my-bois for the prompt "I didn't mean to hurt you." Happy Christmas my friend <3
> 
>  **warnings:** a lot of violence, including between people who are/were in a relationship.

The elevator doors open to the sound of yelling and gunfire.

Ryan steps out into the corridor of the shabby little apartment building, already drawing his gun. Shoulders squared, heavy boots thumping against the thin carpet of the hallway, cutting his usual dark, imposing figure in his skull mask as he strides towards the room on the other end of the corridor. Apartment 3B. He doesn’t flinch as three gunshots ring out from inside; _bang, bang, bang._

The door’s already swinging open on its hinges, the wood around the handle splintered and cracked like it’s been kicked in violently. Ryan slams it open so hard that it bangs against the wall, cracking the plaster a little.

And there is the mark.

Three weeks of driving, across two different states. It’s been a while since it took him that long to chase down a target. But here he is now - struggling in the grip of one of Glasgow’s black-clad mercenaries. They’re wrestling over a gun, bullets flying wildly into the ceiling.

There are two other mercenaries, closing in from the sides. As Ryan watches, one of them reaches in and knocks the gun away, and the one the mark was fighting with seizes him and flips him over, slamming him down onto the low coffee table in the centre of the flat.

The table’s a flimsy, shitty little thing; it cracks under his weight and he lets out a wheezing cry, winded - the mercenary closes in over him, pinning him down with one hand, the other coming down to punch him across the face once, twice-

And then Ryan strides forward and grabs the mercenary, lifting him up and throwing him aside. He raises his gun and calmly shoots the man in the head before he can so much as make a move to get up. Another one - a woman - swings at him with a knife, and he ducks the blow, grabbing her wrist and calmly twisting it until she cries out in pain and drops the blade. He kicks her in the abdomen but she’s wearing body armour and punches back at him with her free hand.

Ryan blocks the blow, but she’s on the offensive now, kicking him in the knee hard enough to make him stumble back. He drops her wrist and she lunges at him, fists flying - he blocks each strike, backing away until he makes his own move, grabbing her by the arms and swinging her around to slam her against the wall. Her head hits the plaster hard enough to leave another crack, and she goes limp - he lets the body drop, turning back to the others.

The mark is fighting with the final mercenary. They’re grappling on the floor - fighting over a gun, it looks like. The mercenary’s on top and he’s got the mark pinned, one hand pushing down on his throat while he chokes and coughs, the other struggling for control of the gun. It fires into the carpet perilously close to the mark’s head and Ryan’s breath catches-

_Need him alive-_

He hurries forward and hooks an arm around the mercenary’s throat, yanking him back. The man struggles - he’s big, heavy, and gets an elbow in to Ryan’s gut. He chokes, winded for a moment, and the man slips free. Turns and charges Ryan against the wall - his back hits it hard and it’s followed up with a blow to the solar plexus that makes him grunt, pain spreading through his abdomen - but he reaches up and grabs the guy’s hair, wrenching his head down and bringing his own knee up to smash into his nose. He feels it snap, blood spraying over the two of them - the guy’s grip on Ryan slackens and Ryan takes the chance to seize his gun and press it close against the man’s chest. Fires once, twice - feels the body jerk and spasm in his grasp before he lets it slip to the ground with a soft thud.

Silence falls in the room.

Ryan takes a moment to catch his breath. He looks up and finds the mark picking himself up off the floor. His breathing is raspy and laboured, and he winces when he gets to his feet, one hand going to rub at his back - but he looks up then and his eyes meet Ryan’s and they both freeze.

For a moment they stand, staring at each other, a silent stalemate. Ryan knows that with his mask on he looks blank. Terrifying. That the man can’t tell what he’s thinking.

Then he sees the mark’s gaze flicker to the door, still hanging open - sees the thought cross his mind - they start running at the same time.

The mark’s fast - but Ryan’s closer to the door. The man’s just reached it when Ryan lunges forward and tackles him. They land hard on the floor, the mark grunting as Ryan’s weight crushes down on him.

“Not so fast,” Ryan snaps, and the man tries to wriggle free, rolling over in Ryan’s grasp and shoving ineffectually at his chest.

“Get off!”

“I don’t think so-” he breaks off as the man’s hand comes up to smack him in the face. Gets him under the chin and starts pushing, forcing his head back. Ryan jerks free and grabs the man’s wrists, holding him still as he struggles - he’s small, squirmy - “You’re coming with me.”

“I’m not! Get off me! I don’t want to fight you-”

“Then _don’t_ ,” Ryan sneers, only to curse as the man gets a knee up and tries to kick at him. He grits his teeth and sucks in a sharp breath and thinks, _focus, how many people have you brought in before, this is a job like any other job_ -

Dodging another kick, he grabs the mark by the hair and drags his head up before slamming it back down against the floor; it’s carpet, it won’t hurt him badly, but he presses his face down until the man is spluttering to breathe.

“Don’t make this hard,” he hisses, and puts a knee on the man’s chest, keeping him pinned down while he starts to shift his hold on the man’s wrists into the one hand. The guy starts squirming again, furiously, and Ryan’s forced to pause to try and keep a grip on him-

“Stop _fighting_ ,” he snarls-

 “Then let _go_ of me.” He pauses, panting, staring up at Ryan with wide eyes. His lip is bleeding a little, bruises already mottling over his jaw where he was punched by the mercs, and Ryan stiffens, staring back at him, trying to ignore how his heart is pounding at the sight of those bloodshot, desperate eyes, how the man’s chest is heaving as he breathes too-fast, the pleading look on his face - “ _Please,_ Ryan. I don’t want to fight. Just get off me and we can talk about it, right?”

 _Talk about it,_ Ryan thinks, a bit hysterically. He could almost laugh. _Fucking talk about it - like talking can fix_ anything _\- like there’s anything you could possibly_ say _to make this okay-_

He scoffs, sneering as his grip tightens on the mark’s wrists, yanking his arms up to pin them against the floor above his head. The other man winces, his feet still scrabbling against the floor, trying to get some leverage.

“We don’t need to fight,” he repeats, a plea in it. “Look, you don’t understand-”

“Oh, don’t even start that,” Ryan snaps, the anger rising up now. “I understand _perfectly_ , Gavin-”

They both freeze.

The name had slipped out. He didn’t mean to say it.

 _Not Gavin_ , he tells himself furiously, _not Gavin. The mark, the mark, the_ mark-

It’s easier when he thinks of it as that. As a job. As just another one of his targets. Makes it easier to think, _I can’t let him get away_ , easier to throw him down and grab his wrists and grip tight enough to feel bone, to ignore the devastated look on the other man’s face, the bruises-

But he’s slipped up now.

The second the name comes out of his mouth all he can see are those familiar green eyes, staring at him pitifully - he falters, and in that split-second of weakness Gavin squirms under him and gets a leg up.

He kicks Ryan hard in the abdomen, hard enough to make him fall backwards, winded for a second, before scrambling to his feet and stumbling down the corridor again.

Ryan coughs a few times before picking himself up, stomach aching - hot anger flaring through him again as he remembers exactly why he’s here.

_Of course he’d take the chance._

_Of course he’s trying to run._

_You don’t run if you’re not fucking guilty_.

Gavin’s heading for the elevator, but he doesn’t get there fast enough. Ryan sprints after him and lunges at him again, barrelling into him full-power and sending him slamming into the wall. They both grunt, a little stunned by the impact, but Gavin immediately starts struggling again, shoving Ryan back and trying to squirm out of his grasp when the other man grabs him again, pinning his arms to his sides.

“Not so fucking fast,” Ryan spits. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

Gavin twists so that they’re facing each other, glaring up at him. There’s something frantic, desperate in his eyes now.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says - too sincere. _A lie like everything else._ Ryan could cry - or _laugh_ , which he does, loud and hysterical.

“Bit fucking late for that,” he says, and Gavin’s lips press together, upset.

“I’m sorry, then,” he replies, and the next thing Ryan knows he’s got an arm free and there’s a fist flying towards his face.

The punch hits him square in the nose and he stumbles back at the sharp pain. He can taste blood, hot and metallic, running down his throat, trickling sticky over his lips and down his chin-

“Mother _fucker_ ,” he spits, reaching up to touch it gingerly - it fucking _hurts_ and he thinks it might be broken - Gavin’s getting away, running for the fire door now, but he’s stumbling, moving stiffly like he’s hurt, and Ryan shoves the pain away and reaches out, catching him by the wrist. He yanks Gavin roughly back, swinging him sideways until he slams against the wall. Gavin cries out when his back hits the hard bricks, but when Ryan swings another punch at him he blocks it deftly, pushing off the wall and knocking Ryan’s next blow aside as well. He goes to kick Ryan back but the other man lashes out first, with a ringing backhand that knocks Gavin clean to the floor. He cries out, lies sprawled motionless for a minute - it gives Ryan enough time to move up behind him, crouching over him and pulling his gun out. Gavin starts to sit up but freezes when he feels the barrel bump against the back of his head.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Ryan says quietly. “You’re coming back with me.”

Gavin’s shoulders are very stiff. He turns his head, just enough to stare up at Ryan, one hand coming up to touch his reddening cheek. He looks a bit dazed. 

“Ryan,” he whispers. “You wouldn’t.”

Ryan presses the gun to his forehead and Gavin’s eyes flicker shut for a moment.

“Don’t fucking test me,” Ryan hisses, and Gavin flinches before slowly raising his hands as he clambers to his knees. Ryan feels sick, even as he lowers the gun - keeps it pointed at Gavin, just not so close - and reaches into his jacket with his other hand to fish out the rope he’s brought.

“This isn’t what you think,” Gavin chokes out. He’s staring at the floor, not watching Ryan.

“I know exactly what it is,” Ryan snaps back. The anger is still churning hot in his gut, and he tells himself it’s that which is making him feel hesitant, nauseous even, as he crouches behind Gavin and grabs his arms, forcing them behind his back before starting to wind the rope around them. “Geoff needs to talk to you. So you’re coming back with me whether you like it or not.”

“It’s not what you think,” Gavin repeats, quieter, but Ryan ignores him. He pulls the rope tight, ignoring Gavin’s wince. He’s seen the other man break out of handcuffs, zip ties, any manner of bindings a hundred times before. Regular fucking Houdini, that one - but Ryan never thought he’d be the one trying to keep them on him. He makes the knot complicated, the ropes pulled so taut that there’s no give. When he’s done he gets to his feet and grabs Gavin by the collar, hauling him upright and pushing him back against the wall.

“This isn’t necessary,” Gavin begins, but Ryan ignores him, one hand on his shoulder keeping him still while the other roughly runs over his pockets, down the legs of his jeans, searching for any weapons. He removes two knives and a can of mace. No gun.

He can feel Gavin shaking, and when he takes the weapons and pulls back from him, he’s staring at the floor again, jaw clenched very tight. Ryan reaches up and touches his own nose, grimacing when his fingers come away bloody. It hurts like a bitch, and it’s a little hard to breathe through. He swipes the back of his hand over his lips and chin, roughly scrubbing away the dried blood, before clearing his throat.

“Time to go home, Gavin,” he says, and Gavin glances up at him.

“Let me explain,” he begins again, but Ryan holds up a hand.

“I don’t,” he says darkly, “Want to fucking hear it.”

Not here. Not now. He can offer whatever lies, whatever shitty excuses he has, once they get back to the others. Once Geoff’s there to hear it, to shoot it down. Once it’s not just on Ryan and all the rest of them are there to deal with this crap too.

Gavin looks pained, but he doesn’t push it. Ryan looks him over and can’t help the little tug he feels; he looks exhausted, dark shadows under his red-rimmed eyes like bruises. Unshaven, dishevelled, and gaunter, like he hasn’t been eating much these last few weeks. Ryan bites his lip, but forces the sympathy away.

 _You chose this. You decided to run._  

 _You decided to lie._  

“Come on,” he snaps, and grabs Gavin’s arm, pushing him ahead of him with his gun at the ready. Gavin doesn’t resist, just stumbles along in front of him, not speaking as they enter the elevator and then as they head outside the building.

It’s strange to get outside into the silent street. It’s late afternoon by now - a grey, overcast day - and Ryan glances warily around the suburb. Everyone’s indoors, the windows of all the flats and houses around them dark and unfriendly with the curtains drawn, some newspapered over. A shitty neighbourhood in an unfamiliar city - he’s pretty sure no one’s even called the cops yet, despite the gunshots. 

Gavin sucks in a deep breath when they get outside, then coughs a few times. Ryan’s grip tightens on his shoulder, but he doesn’t make a move to run. Just trudges along, silent and sullen, as they head over to where Ryan’s car is waiting.

He pushes Gavin in. Leans over to buckle his seatbelt for him and then flicks the child lock on the door before slamming it shut. He pauses outside his own door, sighing, reaching up to rub at his temples. Now that he’s here - now that he’s got the other man with him - he feels oddly hollow, oddly numb. Everything has changed and everything is ruined and now he’s gonna take Gavin back to the others and then… 

Then what?

He takes a deep breath and shakes it off. _Go back. Deal with it then._

 _First, get home_.

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

The problem is, Gavin lies.

That’s what they pay him to do, after all.

He’s been working for Burnie for ages now, but it’s only in the last few years that he moved from England to Achievement City to join the Fake AH Crew. Since then, he’s whatever they need him to be, shifting through mask after mask, disguise after disguise, infiltrating fancy parties, posing as an intern in massive corporations, sweet-talking other crews they need to negotiate with. Ryan’s seen him play dumb, play innocent, play charming or arrogant or incompetent, whatever he needs to get their enemies to underestimate him.

When he’s not in disguise he still keeps his face hidden a lot of the time - like Ryan, with his mask, except Gavin switches his out all the time. Different designs, different face paint, different hair colours, even, depending on what job he’s just been on.

And their Gavin - crew-Gavin, on the days when they’re in meetings with people they trust, or doing a job all together - even this Gavin wears sunglasses more often than not. Decks himself out in expensive silk shirts and gold rings and ridiculous amounts of hair gel, as much an act as when he’s undercover.

It takes a long time to figure him out.

At first, Ryan never works with him. He hears the name around, thrown about by Burnie, or Geoff, or Jack as they mention the other jobs the crew - and the larger crime syndicate the FAHC operates under, Rooster Teeth - are pulling at the moment.

Gavin Free. Gavin Free, the chameleon. Gavin Free, the golden boy. Gavin Free, Burnie’s skeleton key, getting access to whatever the crime lord needs. Even after he moves to America and starts working for the FAHC, he’s not quite _with_ them - never at the base, never actually present at their meetings. Just taking strings of undercover jobs, and then relaying whatever information he’s got back to them.

Ryan doesn’t think about him much. The info he gives them is useful, but that’s about it. As it is, he’s far too distracted by the _others_. 

Geoff. Jack. Michael. Ray. His new family.

It took Ryan a while to trust them. His past is as stained, as cracked as the rest of him, but he’s put it behind him here. It’s easy not to think about it when he’s focused on Geoff’s warm hand on his shoulder, the other man’s contagious laughter and ready affection. When he’s drinking in Michael’s fierce grin, his face lit up by the colourful lights of flares or the glowing blaze of a distant explosion - when he takes note of the barely suppressed laughter in the other man’s voice when he’s yelling, faux-furious.

When he’s with Jack - calm, steady Jack, Jack whose simple touch is grounding, who can pull him back when he starts to get too lost in his own head, in the violence and the mask and the blood on his hands. 

And when he’s with Ray - Ray, the first person who made him laugh, with his quiet sarcasm and deadpan remarks. Ray, the first one he trusted to have his back out in the field.

Ray, the first one he falls for - slowly, barely even noticing it at first, until one day he looks at the other man and the fondness in his chest is nearly overwhelming and he realises he’s in too deep. That they’re _all_ in too deep, because Geoff and Jack are practically together already, but they keep asking Ryan to spend time with them too, and Michael’s always been peculiarly close to Ray, but lately Ryan feels something of a thrill when he goes out with him on jobs as well. 

Maybe he would have been scared once. But he’s well established in the crew at this point, has a _home_ here, and friends - _family_ \- and sure, it’s nerve-wracking, but he doesn't want to run. Not like he has before. He wants to stay, and try this, and see it through.

Then Geoff starts to bring in Gavin more. 

For whatever reason, he seems to have decided that their main crew of five would be better as _six_ , and Gavin stops being their faceless informant and starts hanging out at the base, coming in with them on heists, joining them for planning in person. 

Ryan still doesn’t see him much. He spends most of his time with Ray - they do the muscle work; assassinations, robberies, security on deals and negotiations. Geoff and Jack already know Gavin but it’s Michael who starts spending more time with him. For now, Ryan only knows him as the guy who wears sunglasses indoors, whose wardrobe is probably worth the price of a small car, and who once suggested that they could pose as fire fighters not by stealing uniforms but by dressing entirely in yellow. 

“Fucking weird guy,” Ray says one day, when they’re hanging out in the kitchen and have reached a stage of the conversation where they’re pretty much just talking shit about other people. “He can do like, three different English accents? I heard him talking on the phone the other day and he was doing the super-posh one.”

“How do we know he’s actually English?” Ryan asks, as he opens what is totally not his fourth Diet Coke of the day. “He could be American and just faking the voice. Part of the act.” 

“No, he’s definitely English,” Ray says. “I went into the board room before our meeting and found him using Google to convert all the dollars in our spreadsheet into pounds so he could compare them.” 

Ryan can’t help but laugh at that. 

“Definitely weird,” he says, just as Michael enters. He smells of soot and gunpowder, straight from a job, and the second he walks in Ryan can’t help the way something bright and happy lights up in him at the sight of the other man, has him smiling like an idiot as he stretches a leg out to kick one of the other chairs back from the table.

“Who’s weird?” Michael demands, sitting down and grinning back at Ryan.

“Gavin,” Ray says, and Michael’s grin widens. 

“Good weird or bad weird?” he asks, and Ray and Ryan glance at each other and shrug.

“He’s hard to figure out,” Ryan supplies. “Seems kinda eccentric. And, I dunno. It’s hard to get close to someone who seems to be changing who they are every two seconds.”

“That’s his job,” Michael points out, and Ryan shrugs again.

“I know. Just saying. It’s hard enough to trust people in this business when you _do_ know them, let alone when you can never tell if they’re being sincere. I mean, look at him; the gold, the sunglasses, he’s gotta have the most expensive wardrobe I’ve ever seen. And he never talks to any of us outside of work.”

“Correction,” Michael says, “He never talks to _you and Ray_ outside of work.” He tuts, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. “Have you seen him with Geoff? They’re real close. And I worked with him a lot on that Humane Labs job. He just takes a bit to warm up and then he’s all…” He wiggles his fingers and makes a high-pitched “ _ooooh_ ” noise, which, what the fuck. Ryan stares at him, bemused, unsure what the hell that’s supposed to mean.

“He’s funny,” Michael says finally, seeing their blank stares. “Not afraid to laugh at himself too. Real smart guy under all the dumb questions. Nah, Gavin’s solid.” 

“Sounds like you two have gotten pretty close,” Ray says - something careful in it - Michael looks back at him, something oddly intent in it.

“We have, actually. Gavin’s good at what he does. He cares a lot about the crew. I can see why Burnie trusts him so much. And, y’know, he’s fun to be around. The whole million-dollar-wardrobe thing? He’s not really like that when you get to know him. Plays it up the way we all play it up, y’know? Like you with your whole Vagabond thing, Ry.” 

“Hmmm,” is all Ryan replies. He’s not convinced - but there’s something almost defensive in the way Michael’s talking about this, and Ryan realises suddenly that he hasn’t been paying much attention. Didn’t notice that Michael was getting so close to Gavin. Geoff either. 

Michael leaves after a bit, Ray and Ryan left alone at the table. Ray still looks pensive, stirring his bowl of cereal, but he looks up after a moment and gives Ryan a small smile. 

“Hard when someone new joins us,” he says, and Ryan can only nod, relieved that he’s not the only one who’s feeling it; a little wariness at their intimate group of five being so suddenly joined by someone else, someone they don’t know well yet. Especially when the five of them are so close. Especially when it took a hell of a lot for Ryan to open up and trust _them_ at first. So it’s reassuring, that Ray’s not sure either. 

What Ryan _is_ sure of is _Ray_. Ray who he grins at now, feeling a swell of fondness, some camaraderie at their shared opinion. Ray who can be so quiet, but not in the same way that Gavin has been aloof so far; it’s something more guarded, something Ryan can relate to, but under that Ray is fierce and loyal and determined and Ryan’s getting closer and closer to telling him exactly how much he means to him. 

How much they _all_ mean to him.

Things change soon after that, with Gavin. Maybe Michael says something to him, or to Geoff, after their conversation in the kitchen. Maybe it’s because he starts getting more involved in group jobs, or they all start getting busier and he’s working longer hours alongside the rest of them. But for whatever reason, Ryan starts seeing him more and more around the base in their off-hours. 

He’ll wander into the kitchen and find him standing half-asleep over the kettle making a pot of tea. Or see him heading towards the bedrooms from the bathroom, fresh from a shower, hair damp and flat and nearly unrecognisable in a faded old t-shirt and pajama pants. Or walk into the rec area to find him passed out on the couch, curled up using his hoodie as a blanket. 

It’s hard not to get closer to someone when you’re practically living with them - Ryan spends more time at the base than at his own apartment now anyway. And now he’s seeing Gavin outside of work hours, interacting with him more - eating dinner together, or playing video games, or having a chat with him at three in the morning after encountering each other in the dark kitchen; Ryan there to get a glass of water, Gavin sitting at the table with his script for a new job in front of him, running over his next backstory over and over to prepare himself for whatever part he’s playing next - he starts seeing what Michael mentioned before. 

Gavin is funny, the first to diffuse a situation with some silly remark. Gavin is awkward, always looking a bit like a deer in the headlights when someone he doesn’t know well starts talking to him unexpectedly. Gavin is incessantly curious - not just about the information he deals in, but _everything,_ drinking in stories not just about their past jobs but about the antics that’ve gone on at the base, about the people they’ve worked with.

Gavin likes Halo, and space documentaries on National Geographic, and taking photos. Gavin eats other people’s leftovers in the fridge but makes up for it by making them all sandwiches. Gavin’s real laugh is squeaky and wheezy and entirely too endearing, and when it starts showing more and more around them Ryan can’t quite tell why he’s so pleased. 

Geoff seems to have immediately clicked with him. They’re constantly wrestling, or cuddling on the couch, or going off drinking together. Part of Ryan’s a little resentful at first, something far too close to jealousy coiling in his stomach, but it fades quickly when he and Geoff work together on another job and the other man keeps _looking_ at him, with a funny sort of smile and a fond look in his eyes and seeming to find every excuse to put his hand on Ryan’s shoulder, or squeeze his arm, or lightly touch his back. 

Jack seems fond of Gavin, but Jack’s fond of _everyone_. Michael’s clicked with him too; they drink together, laugh together, watch movies together, seem to find everything the other says endlessly amusing. Gavin will stir Michael up with stupid remarks then sit there cackling at him when he starts yelling, like his rage is the funniest comedy he’s ever seen. There’s always a grin on Michael’s face, no bite to his words, and when he reaches out to shove Gavin off the couch after, or hit him with a pillow, he always ruffles his hair afterwards, even if it’s followed a second later by tugging his hood up and over his eyes. 

Even Ray starts warming up to Gavin more - they’ll play video games together, and they’re both always up at weird hours of the night, and sometimes Ryan will see him bringing Gavin tea if he’s working late. It’s nice to see Ray opening up, tentatively reaching out in his own way. 

So by a few months in, there’s a point where Ryan reckons he’s got Gavin all figured out. The golden boy that they see at work every day, that’s a show - he’s seen Gavin bleaching his hair in the bathroom, seen how on the weekends he doesn’t bother with gel, seen how the second he gets home he’ll strip those expensive suits off in favour of a t-shirt and jeans. Their Gavin, the Gavin who seems willing to show himself around them now, is bumbling and sweet, easily affectionate, probably a bit too overworked- 

Except the next week a mercenary working for a rival crew enters the base under the guise of a client. Pulls a gun on Geoff while he’s sitting in the kitchen and Gavin - just entering the room himself, with his hair sticking up every which way, eyes half-shut, obviously only having been awake for a couple of minutes after having passed out after working on a job for several days straight - shoots him without a second thought. 

Ryan’s already got his gun half out and Geoff’s whirling around, eyes wide, chest heaving with that shock of adrenaline that comes from realising how close you’ve just come to death- 

And Gavin calmly puts the gun on the counter, yawns, and turns to put bread in the toaster. 

Watching someone nonchalantly kill a guy while wearing fucking pajama pants is a sight that Ryan probably ought to be used to by now, but somehow he really isn’t, and despite how often they kill people, how completely _unfazed_ Gavin is by the whole business has him suddenly re-evaluating his previous notion of Gavin as sweet, and shy, and soft under all the golden glamour. 

“Fucking hell,” Geoff gasps, “How did he get in here? Who was on security?”

“Are you okay?” Ryan’s gaze jerks away from Gavin in favour of rushing to Geoff’s side. His own heart is pounding, some intense protectiveness rising up in him as he grips Geoff’s shoulders. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” Geoff assures him, but his eyes are wide and he reaches up and runs a hand down the side of Ryan’s face, for whatever reason, before he turns to Gavin. “Nice shot, Gav. You just saved my ass.” 

“Hmm?” Gavin asks, turning from the toaster and rubbing at his eyes. “Sorry, I just woke up-”

“You just killed a guy,” Ryan snaps, reaching out and kicking at the body. Gavin’s gaze flicks down to it and he blinks a few times before nodding.

“He was pointing a gun at Geoff. Reflex.”

“You are terrifying,” Geoff informs him. “You are a small, terrifying creature and I am very scared of you.” 

Gavin just blinks at him before giving a small, sheepish grin, and Ryan can only stare at him; with his pajama pants hanging too-loose off his narrow hips and his jaw scraggly with stubble, scrawny little Gavin who just killed a man without thinking and who turns away now and opens one of the kitchen cupboards and asks, “Do we have any jam?”, and thinks, _I have no idea who you fucking are._

So it turns out he _can’t_ work Gavin out, not really, and after a moment he gives up on _trying_ to and just lets himself get to know him instead, slowly, naturally. They do some heist prep work together, getting vehicles in place, and Gavin tells Ryan all about some cat he used to have back in England, and they talk a lot about theatre, and if Ryan was worried about Gavin being _dangerous_ , he realises quickly that he’s dangerous too. They all are, and it doesn’t take long to gather just how loyal Gavin is to Geoff, to Burnie, to the crew. If he’s dangerous, at least he’s on their side. 

“Did you write _lovely Ryan_ on my desk?” he asks, coming into the kitchen one day to find Gavin and Jack sitting there eating what looks a lot like Geoff’s leftover Singapore noodles. Jack laughs; Gavin looks up and grins.

“Yes,” he says.

“Why?” 

“Because you’re lovely, Ryan!” Gavin declares, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and Ryan stares at him for a moment before remembering how the other day he brought Gavin tea and toast when he was working late, and feels suddenly quite flustered - especially with how Jack is staring at him with a knowing sort of grin.

“Ryan’s definitely lovely,” he agrees, reaching out to thump him on the shoulder; Ryan scowls at him and marches over to the fridge, feeling hot and defensive suddenly, unsure why.

“I’m a terrifying master assassin,” he grumbles, grabbing a Diet Coke. “I’m the best bounty hunter in Achievement City. Everybody is scared of me.” 

“You’re a lovely master assassin,” Gavin giggles, “You’re the loveliest bounty hunter and everyone thinks you’re lovely.”

He breaks into fits of squeaks when Ryan comes up behind him and presses the Diet Coke to his neck, making him squirm to get away from the cold.

“Didn’t they teach you at school not to write on tables?” he demands, and Gavin flails before slipping out of his chair. He snatches the Coke, shakes it vigorously, then puts it down on the table before running out of the room. 

“Oh, come on!” Ryan cries, and flips him off before sitting down and rolling his eyes. Jack’s watching him with a huge grin and something expectant in his face.

“What?” Ryan demands, and Jack just smiles.

“Nothing.”

“Come on, you look like you’re waiting to say something.” 

“It’s cute seeing you being so friendly with him,” Jack says, and Ryan pulls a face - Jack laughs again. “I mean it. It’s sweet.”

He reaches out and puts a hand over Ryan’s and Ryan goes very still - looks up and meets Jack’s eyes and finds something too soft and sincere in them - his heart is pounding and all he can do is offer a small smile back. 

It’s not like he doesn't realise what’s going on. How close they’re all getting. But over the next few weeks, things change even more. 

Gavin leaves to work on an undercover job, a month or so spent infiltrating a gang in a neighbouring city, and all the rest of them start planning another big bank heist. It’s a lot of sitting around at the base, going over blueprints, checking weapons stores - just the five of them. 

Just the five of them, practically living together now, coming together slowly. 

Ryan always knew something was going to happen. He just wasn’t sure how; one at a time, or all at once - as it is, it happens between Geoff and Jack first. The two of them go out to make a deal one day and come back holding hands and no one needs to say anything, really, they all know. 

Ryan and Ray are next, perhaps surprisingly. Ryan doesn’t mean to make a move, but at three in the morning, alone in the boardroom, when his head is spinning from looking at the same map for an hour straight, when he’s thinking about how happy Jack and Geoff have looked since they got back, when he turns to Ray and realises just how much he _knows_ the other man now, how familiar he is with his soft pout as he frowns at their lists of plans, struggling to make sense of them at this time of night, the way he looks up and gives a tired grin when he notices Ryan staring… 

He’s not given to doing things like this on impulse, but suddenly he doesn’t want to wait any longer.

It’s all very fast, and feels a bit like a dream, these tired confessions in the silent base in the middle of the night, and his hand on Ray’s shoulder and the other man’s eyes going wide, his deadpan coolness faltering for a moment. How Ryan stumbles over his words; shy, faltering, uncertain, but when it clicks in Ray something fierce comes over his face and his hand fists in the front of Ryan’s shirt and he tugs him forward. 

It feels a bit unreal, the next morning, like some midnight delusion. But it’s not, it’s real, and Ray grins at Ryan at breakfast and the others catch on _immediately_ and Ryan sees Jack and Geoff glance at each other, then at the rest of them, some silent exchange- 

It all comes together from there. 

Because now that Jack and Geoff are together, and Ray and Ryan are too, Michael is left hanging a bit awkwardly, and even if Ryan can tell he’s pleased for them, he still sees how unsure the other man is under it all. All it takes is one conversation with Ray and the other man readily agrees that it was never just about the two of them, and two nights later Michael’s with them- 

And two nights after _that_ Geoff tells them all to take the night off, and they all go out for dinner, and it feels a bit too much like _one_ group date instead of two, and then Geoff grabs Michael’s hand while they’re walking back to the car and- 

“That’s _our_ boyfriend, excuse you,” Ray says, but it’s joking more than anything else.

“Can’t we all share?” Geoff replies, but it sounds like an offer, and this was _coming_ , they all knew it. They look around at each other and Jack looks nervous for once, but Ray is smiling, and Michael hasn’t let go of Geoff’s hand, but for some reason they all turn to _Ryan_ , and he’s been making far too many snap decisions lately but he finds himself nodding before he can even stop himself.

“Sure can,” he says. “I mean, if you’re all cool with it.” 

“ _Sure can_ ,” Ray imitates, because he’s an asshole, and Ryan swats at him, and Jack laughs a very hysterical, relieved laugh, and there’s something nervous and buzzing but _excited_ between them the rest of the night, and that’s that, really.

In hindsight, things probably happened a little too fast. 

In hindsight, they should have talked about it in depth; what they want, what they _expect_ from each other, instead of just throwing themselves together and hoping things work out. But that’s what they _do;_ they’ve always been ones to take risks. 

And the thing is, they’re all fucked up in their own way. Michael’s angry too often, throws himself into danger like he doesn’t care what happens to him, starts fires just to feel the heat. Ray’s closed off with others, doesn’t trust easily, gets hesitant and awkward when he has to work with anyone outside of their little group. Geoff stays up drinking too many nights, especially after jobs go even slightly wrong, spends hours and hours the night before a heist making sure every last detail is in place. Jack helps civilians around Achievement City like he’s trying to make up for something, like charity cases can wipe away all the rest of the black on his conscience. And Ryan... 

Ryan still gets caught in his own head sometimes, in the weight of his past and everything he’s done as the Vagabond, in how long he spent working alone, unable to trust anyone after being burned too many times - he still finds it hard to sleep at night, still wonders sometimes about what he is, what he’s capable of, if he can really have everything the way it feels, right now, that he does- 

But maybe all that is what brought them together in the first place.

Because they’re fucked up, yes, but they’re better together. Their broken edges fit together like jagged puzzle pieces and it works, all of them together _works_ , and while this isn’t exactly what he expected when he joined the FAHC, Ryan’s happier than he’s ever been.

Gavin is the last to join them. 

He comes back from that job to find all of them together and while he laughs and says he saw it coming, it’s undeniably a bit awkward, being the sixth wheel. Even if he’s still close to Geoff, and Michael, even if he’s still working together with all the rest of them. 

Even if he’s doing a damn good job trying to hide it, smiling and laughing - they know him well enough by now to _see_ that it’s an act. 

And he stops hanging out around the base as much. Goes back to his own apartment, or sometimes Burnie’s place. The rest of them, now that they’re together, pretty much live at the base since none of them has a house big enough for all of them, retreating back to their own places when they need some space - but it’s obvious, that Gavin’s avoiding them. It’s obvious why. And at first it’s regrettable, but what can they do about it? He’ll get over it. Maybe once Matt and Jeremy join the main team - they’re working up to it - it’ll be less awkward since he won’t be the only one who’s not part of the relationship. 

And he’s not going to, at first, be part of the relationship. Because this thing, the five of them, it’s been building a long time, since before he even arrived, and for a while they’re focused on that, not on bringing even more people in. 

But after a few months, they’re settling into it - into balancing everything, and forming their own little relationships within the five - and Michael’s brought up a few times that he misses having Gavin around, and feels bad that he obviously feels left out, so they start toning it down a bit. They don’t spend every night at the base, and Michael takes Gavin out for meals, and Jack tells him if he’s working late to do it in the boardroom and then stays back with him to help out, and Geoff assigns him little jobs with just Ryan or Ray, because they still need to work together, all six of them, and they can’t have any one person feeling less involved in the business side of things. 

It happens on a quiet night, too much like the one when Ryan got together with Ray; he’s alone in the base, or thinks he is, getting ready to head to bed - staying here tonight, even if all the others are back at their own homes - when he hears glass break in one of the bathrooms and a muttered curse. 

“Alright in there?” he calls out - approaches warily, hand on his knife, even if it’s unlikely someone broke in and then decided to go and use the _toilet_ here. 

“Fine,” - he relaxes, it’s Gavin’s voice, sounding strained - “Everything’s fine!” 

“What broke?” 

“ _Nothing_ , Ryan.” Gavin’s sounds snappish, annoyed, and Ryan stiffens - he’s never really seen the other man properly pissed off before, but his voice is shaking a bit now and Ryan remembers that he was on a job today, going out with Jeremy to make a small deal with another gang. He’s hit with a sudden worry, and tries the door - it’s not locked. 

“I’m coming in,” he says.

“Don’t,” Gavin begins, but it’s too late. Ryan walks in to find the other man on his knees on the floor, picking up shards of a broken glass. 

“Damn it, I told Geoff to stop leaving those in here,” he says, and gets down next to Gavin, grabbing the bin and holding it out for him to drop the pieces in. “I got it.” 

Gavin’s staring at him and Ryan looks up and does a double take. The other man’s lip is bleeding and there’s a thin cut along his left cheek, smudged around with blood. His hands are shaking where he’s holding the glass, even as he drops it into the bin. 

“Shit, what happened?” Ryan asks - he starts to reach out, he’s not sure why, but Gavin shies back and stands up, bracing himself against the sink. 

“Those idiots we were making the deal with turned on us. We took care of them though.”

“Jeremy okay?”

“He’s fine,” Gavin says, and huffs out a laugh. “Everything’s _fine_.” 

Except it’s obviously not, but Ryan’s not quite sure why. They’ve all had a lot worse, and if anything seriously bad had gone down Gavin or Jeremy would have told Geoff. It’s just a scratch, but Gavin’s trembling now and Ryan cleans up the rest of the glass and turns back to him. He’s splashing his face with water now, wiping the blood off his mouth and then carefully cleaning around the cut. 

“Hey,” Ryan says - Gavin ignores him - “ _Hey_.” 

He grabs Gavin’s shoulder and the other man stiffens, but turns the tap off. He doesn’t look at Ryan, just stands there breathing heavily and staring into his own eyes in the mirror. His face is set hard and annoyed and _upset_ and Ryan squeezes his shoulder. 

“What’s going on?” he asks, and Gavin huffs out something like a laugh.

“I’m just annoyed about this,” he says, and gestures at the cut on his face. 

“It hurts?” Ryan asks, and Gavin scoffs.

“No, Ryan, it’s on my _face_. That’s asset number one. What am I gonna do if it scars? It’ll make me recognisable and fuck up all the jobs where I need to be unobtrusive. Not to mention, big scar right on my mug, that’s not very attractive.” 

“Who cares about that,” Ryan begins, but Gavin turns to him, eyes narrowing now- 

“ _Everyone_ , Ryan, bloody _everyone_ \- you don’t _know_ , you wear your mask all the time anyway - you think I’m able to get people to trust me just because I’m good at lying? Ninety percent of it is because people are more willing to believe a pretty face and a nice smile. It’s shallow but it’s true. This is my thing, okay, Ray needs his hands to snipe and you’ve got sharp eyes, that’s how you shoot so well. _This_ ,” he gestures at himself, his face and all the rest, the spray-stiff hair that’s starting to flop in pieces over his forehead - it’s brown right now, close to his natural colour - the expensive shirt, unbuttoned and hanging open; Ryan can see more blood spotting his undershirt - “It’s all I have.” 

“Oh my God, Gavin.” Ryan lets go of his shoulder, reaches out to press his arm instead. “That… that’s not true at all, it’s not all you have-” 

“Isn’t it?” Gavin looks up at him then and _smiles_ \- his eyes wide and bright and _happy_ , his grin so genuine that it takes Ryan aback for a moment. Gavin looks nice, sunny and cheerful and sweet, the sort of person you’d approach to ask for directions, or to borrow change for the parking meter - but it’s sort of terrifying when a second later Ryan notices the blood on his teeth, and running slowly down his cheek from the cut. He glances away and Gavin laughs, the mask dropping, exhausted and upset again - “You see?” 

“It’s not true,” Ryan repeats, but he can’t help the uncertainty in his voice. “You don’t need a costume to be a good actor. I’ve seen you, Gavin, you’re smart and you’re a quick thinker and you can lie like no one else I’ve seen. Also, if you want to talk about unobtrusive, let’s start with your nose, right? You’ve got by with _that_ obstacle all these years.” 

Gavin laughs at that - genuine, briefly startled - but it fades after a moment as he starts inspecting himself in the mirror again, and Ryan sighs. There’s nothing he can say to get through to him, really, so he reaches out instead and turns Gavin towards him. Gently tilts his face up and inspects the wound.

“This won’t scar,” he says. “It’s not deep. Should heal completely. And even if it does, it’s nothing you can’t cover with makeup, or create a backstory for. Skiing accident. Got hit with a cricket ball. Brother threw a stapler at you when you were kids.” 

“I actually do have a brother,” Gavin murmurs - the sudden personal information makes Ryan stare at him, a bit surprised - but Gavin relaxes under his hands. Closes his eyes and takes a deep breath and nods. 

“You’re right,” he says, and sighs. “I can work with this.” 

Ryan smiles, but it’s forced. He steps back and watches Gavin clean himself up and then stick a bandaid over the injury, still tutting every now and then when he catches sight of his reflection in the mirror. Watching him - thinking back on what he said - Ryan feels a sudden great wrenching tug.

It is a darkness he is familiar with. When you’re nothing more than what you do, when you start to get too lost in the act you put on. When you worry that if you take off the mask you’ll find nothing under it. It’s something he understands all too well - something that’s gone away from him, now that he’s with the others - but seeing it in Gavin makes him ache, makes him feel some sudden, intimate connection with the other man-

 _He could be a part of this_ , he thinks suddenly. Maybe it’s too rushed, too abrupt to so suddenly think of bringing someone else in - but looking back on it now, Michael and Geoff are so close to him, and Ray’s more open with Gavin than anyone else outside of their relationship, and Jack gives him the same fond smile that he gives all of them- 

And Ryan, now, feels the same urge to protect him, to take care of him, that he does with all the others. The same sense that they understand each other, that they know when to push and when not to push, that they can _help_ each other- 

Tonight it’s too late, and Gavin really just looks like he needs to sleep, and Ryan doesn’t need to be acting on half-formed ideas. But when he steps forward and pats Gavin on the back and says, “I’ll put the kettle on for you before I go to bed,” Gavin’s answering smile is small but genuine.

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

The silence in the car is awkward, an icy tension hanging over them as Ryan pulls away into the outskirts of the city. It started spitting a while ago; not quite proper rain, but just enough to spot the windshield annoyingly. Enough that the sky outside is grey and depressing and only adding to Ryan’s miserable mood. 

Gavin hasn’t spoken since they left the building. As they slow down, approaching traffic, he shifts in his seat and Ryan finally turns to look at him. He’s sitting awkwardly with his hands still tied behind his back, and he’s licking blood from his lip. The bruises are standing out dark on his jawline and Ryan feels a sudden unease.

His own face still hurts like hell where Gavin punched him. He really wasn’t holding back, and something about that is upsetting - but Ryan shoves it away, covers it with anger, even as Gavin looks over at him and something guilty flashes across his face.

 _There are lots of things you should be guilty for,_ Ryan thinks, rather meanly. He clears his throat, unable to stand the silence any longer.

“Those people were there to kill you,” he grunts. 

Gavin looks surprised that he spoke. He nods, quickly, almost nervously. 

“Yeah. They were.”

“Glasgow tying up his loose ends, is he?” Ryan grunts - sees Gavin’s flinch - “Now that we know about them. Doesn’t want to us to get to them first. Off them before we can interrogate them, find out exactly how much he knows.”

Gavin swallows hard, and Ryan stares at him coldly.

“Apparently,” he replies finally, and another hot flash of anger spears through Ryan’s chest.

“So it’s true then. You do work for him.”

Gavin looks away, out the rain-spotted window, and Ryan scowls. He thinks he should stop talking - because it’s hurting him, too, to have all his terrible suspicions confirmed - he should wait, should let Geoff and Jack handle this. They’d be better at it. 

But somehow he can’t, the words spilling out before he can stop them. 

“All this time,” he says, “Some of the others still thought there was hope. That you didn’t fucking do this. I guess maybe I did too. When we saw your name on that list… it seemed impossible to believe. We thought there had to be some mistake. It couldn’t be you. It _couldn’t_.” 

Gavin’s jaw tightens, still refusing to look at him. 

“But then you…” Ryan scoffs out a harsh laugh. “Then you ran. You killed three people, and you ran, and after that… well, it had to be true, didn’t it? Why would you run if it wasn’t true?” 

“Those people…” Gavin’s voice is tight, too carefully controlled. “They were your enemies. They were double agents.”

“You are too,” Ryan snaps, and Gavin’s shoulders tense up. “Why’d you kill them? Afraid they’d tell us you were one of them? Too fucking late, the list already made sure of that. Maybe if you hadn’t done all that you still coulda talked yourself out of it. But all you ended up doing was proving your guilt.”

Gavin squeezes his eyes shut for a minute, looking very pained, and Ryan can only sneer at him.

“God. If Geoff hadn’t hired that hacker we’d never have known. We’d still be oblivious to the fact that you’re a…”

He trails off when his voice cracks a little. He’s getting too upset now, remembering it - remembering how confused the others were, how _hurt - there has to be some mistake -_ he swallows a few times, tries to raise anger to cover his upset. Feels nothing but tired.

“Go on,” Gavin says flatly. His eyes are open now, staring straight ahead. “What am I?”

Ryan stares at him, eyes burning. He swallows, and when he speaks his voice is steady again.

“Liar,” he says flatly. “Traitor.”

Gavin closes his eyes again. Takes a slow, shaky breath. 

“You don’t understand,” he says then, and finally looks at Ryan. He looks upset, something raw and sincere in his eyes, “There’s an explanation for everything-”

“See, I’m struggling to come up with one,” Ryan snaps, and Gavin leans forward more - it’s hard, with his arms behind his back and the seatbelt constricting his movements.

“I can explain it all,” he says - pleading now - “Not… not right now, but soon, I can tell you exactly why… please, you don’t have to do this.” He jerks his arms, gestures at the whole situation, “I’ll come back with you. It doesn’t have to be as a prisoner. I’m not a danger to you, Ryan-”

“You broke my nose!”

“I promise, I don’t want it to be like this. I can explain everything, it… it all has a reason. Please. _Please_.” 

He’s staring at Ryan, eyes huge and pleading. Ryan stares back at him and for a moment, something unsure falters in his chest, because this is _Gavin_ \- Gavin who’s tied up and in pain and staring at him so desperately, Gavin who’s covered in bruises and looks like he needs a solid meal and then a hell of a lot of sleep - Gavin whose voice is breaking, who’s begging him here-

Gavin who looks on the verge of tears, and something about that makes Ryan force himself to look away, to shake his sympathy off. Gavin doesn’t cry. It’s too much.

“You’re playing me,” he says flatly, and Gavin looks taken aback - _an act, it’s all an act, just like it’s been this whole time-_  

“Wh-what? I’m not - Ryan, I’m _not_ -”

“Shut the fuck up. Don’t talk any more.” Ryan turns away and Gavin lets out a choking, upset noise and slumps back in his seat. He seems genuinely hurt and Ryan glances at him before gritting his teeth and forcing himself to looks away again.

The problem is, he _wants_ to believe him.

Wants to believe that Gavin’s genuine here - that he’s innocent - that there’s some explanation for all this - that he’s genuinely sorry about what’s going on. It’s not as though Ryan’s _enjoying_ having to play the mean captor here, having to haul him back to the others tied up and bleeding - it’s not _fun_. It’s hurting him too.

But that closeness - that sympathy - that’s his weak spot. That’s what Gavin tried to exploit before, to get away - he has to close himself off, stay objective. To protect himself - and for the good of the crew.

After all, the evidence is so stacked up here. It doesn’t matter what Ryan _wants_ to trust. It matters that Gavin’s name was on the list, that Gavin killed three other men listed as double agents, that Gavin ran away and Glasgow came after him.

If Gavin could fucking _explain_ all that - why wait? He’d have done it right away, before Ryan had to come chasing after him.

With that in mind, he hardens. Turns back to the road and focuses on driving and ignores Gavin’s ragged breathing next to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My playlist](http://8tracks.com/8ofhearts/trust) for the fic :’)


	2. Chapter 2

They get out of the city and onto the highway. It starts raining in earnest, dark thunderclouds descending over the horizon, the storm getting ever closer to them. Gavin closes his eyes and Ryan can’t tell if he’s asleep or not.

They reach a motor inn; a tiny, shabby looking place, its bright fluorescent lights shining like a beacon in the dark night. The car park is mostly empty and Ryan keeps a careful look out as he pulls in.

Gavin stirs. If he was sleeping he’s awake now, blinking blearily around.

“We’re stopping?” he asks, confused.

“I need to sleep,” Ryan replies flatly. He barely has in a few days - quick naps by the side of the road, even those not lasting long despite his exhaustion. “I haven’t gotten much lately. And you can’t exactly take a turn driving.”

Gavin bites his lip and looks away, not saying anything.

Ryan pulls into a parking space and turns the engine off. He sits for a moment, breathing slowly, suddenly exhausted. Like everything that’s happened the last few weeks is suddenly crushing down on him. Then he shakes himself - clears his head - pockets his keys.

“Don’t move,” he orders, and Gavin just closes his eyes again. Ryan hesitates, but with the child locks on the doors and tied up as he is, there’s no way he can escape.

Besides, out here in the middle of nowhere, where would he run?

Still. He hurries, getting out of the car and jogging into the office. Gets a key to a single room from the sleepy-eyed attendant who doesn’t seem like they much care what anyone’s doing in this motel, and then heads out and gets back in the car. Gavin hasn’t moved, and Ryan isn’t sure if he should be relieved or suspicious.

“It’s raining like a bitch out there,” he mutters - unsure why, maybe because he just can’t stand the silence - Gavin doesn’t reply. Ryan drives to the parking spot right in front of their room and turns the engine off again.

Gavin doesn’t resist when Ryan opens the door and undoes his seatbelt, then pulls him out of the car. He stumbles, off-balance with his hands tied, and Ryan keeps a tight grip on his arm as he tugs him over to the room and then ushers him inside. It’s a relief to shut the door behind them, to get inside where it’s warm and dry. He switches on the lights and looks around.

The motel room is tiny; little more than a single bedroom with a ragged looking couch and a small bathroom leading off it. The carpet is worn and dirty, the whitewashed walls peeling in places, and the hygienic state of the mattress questionable - but Ryan’s stayed in worse places. He goes over and makes sure the window’s locked before drawing the curtains and slinging his duffle bag onto the bed.

Then he turns back to Gavin.

The other man is standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, head down. Ryan stares at him for a long moment, trying to gauge if he’s about to fight, or try to run - but he can’t tell what he’s thinking. Which is worrying.

“Sit down,” he snaps finally, and Gavin glances up at him before shuffling over to the couch. He winces when he sits down, and then makes a futile effort to flip his wet hair out of his face without using his hands.

“Ryan,” he says quietly, and Ryan glances over at him.

“What?”

“Can you untie my arms, please? Just for a minute.” Gavin’s giving him that doe-eyed look again and Ryan’s jaw clenches, turning away so he won’t see it. So he won’t go soft. “ _Please_ , Ryan, they went to sleep and now they really hurt.”

“Tough luck,” Ryan forces out, and Gavin sighs.

“Okay,” he says in a small voice, and shifts to try and get comfortable. For a second when he moves his arms his control slips and Ryan sees him clench his teeth, looking very pained. Then he shoves it away, face slipping back into blankness.

Still. It makes Ryan frown, suddenly hit by a pang of concern that Gavin might be more badly hurt than he thought - that Glasgow’s men might have done something to him before Ryan got there that he’s hiding now - he walks over to his bag and pulls out his first aid kit before heading into the bathroom - leaves the door open - and inspecting himself in the mirror.

He looks fucking awful. There’s blood smudged all over his face, and the bags under his eyes are so dark they look like bruises. His face is hard and weary and looking at himself, for a flash of a moment it’s like staring back to four years ago, when he spent his life in these shitty motel rooms. Would pull his mask off after a job and see this hard-eyed man looking back at him, a mess of running paint and blood and too many sleepless nights. _Vagabond_.

He shakes it off - _that’s not you any more, it’s not -_ and splashes water over his face. Cleans himself up and winces as he presses a cold washcloth to his nose. It’s not badly broken - he re-aligned it earlier, in the car, before it could swell too much - but it starts bleeding again when he touches it, and he spends a little while waiting for it to stop before taping it in place, cleaning the blood away again, and heading back out.

Gavin’s sitting right where he left him. He looks up at Ryan and more guilt flashes in his eyes, probably at the sight of the huge bruise right in the middle of Ryan’s face.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” Ryan asks gruffly.

Gavin blinks, seeming almost surprised.

“Just bruised,” he replies - Ryan can see more marks on his neck where the mercenary grabbed him by the throat - but when he steps closer he sees blood on Gavin’s shirt, and frowns. He drags a chair over and sits facing him - Gavin staring at him the whole time - before pulling the first aid kit up.

“Turn around,” he says curtly. “Don’t try anything.”

Gavin blinks at him, but slowly turns. Ryan reaches out and tugs at the knot. It takes him a little while to untie it - he’s tired, and it’s a complicated one - but finally the ropes come free and Gavin sucks in a breath as they fall away. Ryan frowns - his wrists are red, raw, more than they should be for the amount of time he was tied up.

_He was pulling at them,_ he thinks, and feels another flash of anger, _he was trying to get out-_

Gavin moves his arm forward and freezes, letting out a whimper of pain despite himself. Ryan doesn’t move to help him, and after a moment Gavin manages to lift one arm and reach around to massage the other one, pulling at his shoulder, slowly working the stiffness out.

“Show me where you’re bleeding,” Ryan says, and Gavin glances up at him.

“It’s not serious.”

“I didn’t ask if it was serious. Show me.”

Gavin looks confused, but he turns back towards Ryan and lifts his shirt. There’s a shallow gash low on his abdomen. It looks mostly healed - just some surface bleeding - but Ryan reaches forward and swabs at it with an antiseptic wipe anyway. Gavin stiffens, letting out a hiss of breath, but sits still holding his shirt up.

“I told you, it’s not serious,” he repeats. “It’s a few weeks old. It just opened again when I was fighting those guys.”

_A few weeks,_ Ryan thinks - and pauses as he realises that puts it back to when Gavin was running from the base. When he hunted down three other members of the crew and killed them before realising that Geoff and the others already knew he was on the list and booking it. He quickly plasters a bandage over the wound and rises so abruptly that Gavin jerks back a bit. Ryan ignores him - strides over to his bag, digs around until he finds a shirt and tosses it at Gavin.

“Get dressed,” he says harshly.

Gavin clutches at the shirt, surprised, before looking down at it and scoffing.

“This is mine,” he says, and looks up at Ryan uncertainly. “You brought my clothes with you?”

Ryan grits his teeth.

“Jack’s idea,” he says, and something terribly upset crosses Gavin’s face at the mention of the others. It gives Ryan a vindictive sort of satisfaction for a moment - _that’s right, you hurt them too -_ but it quickly fades, leaving him nothing but upset as well.

Gavin turns away, pulling his dirty shirt over his head, and Ryan can’t help but grimace at the sight of his back. It’s covered in dark bruises where that guy threw him down onto the table, and he can tell from the stiff slowness of Gavin’s movements that it has to hurt like hell. But the other man gets dressed and Ryan walks back over to him. He tugs his wrists in front of him this time, and ties them again - Gavin doesn’t resist, even if he winces when the ropes pull tightly around the red marks from earlier.

“We’ll get back on the road tomorrow,” Ryan mutters as he turns back to his bag. Gavin nods, but doesn’t reply.

It’s been a long time since Ryan felt this awkward. It’s fine when he stays in these places on his own, but when he’s gone on jobs with the others, has stopped in these shabby motel rooms - they’ve always made the best of it. Laughed and joked around and made it seem far more tolerable, at least for the one night. And after they all got together, there would be something nice in having some alone time just as a pair. In curling up together in the shitty little bed and talking just the two of them.

But now everything’s ruined, and it hits Ryan, suddenly, that things will never be the same again. He doesn’t want to think about it.

_Everything always seemed too good to be true_.

“Eat something,” he orders, rummaging in his bag and coming up with a bunch of energy bars. He chucks them at Gavin before grabbing one for himself. It’s hardly a meal, but it’ll do. They can grab something tomorrow the next time they pass a truck stop; he was focused today on just getting the hell away from the city.

“Thanks,” Gavin replies flatly. Ryan wishes he hadn’t, not when they both know the situation they’re in. He grabs one of the bars, awkwardly with his hands bound in front of him, and rips the packet open with his teeth. Ryan can’t help but stare as he scoffs it down so quickly that it’s gone in seconds before starting immediately on the next one.

Three weeks on the run. Stopping to eat isn’t exactly your first priority.

_Running from Glasgow,_ he thinks, and then with a flash of bitterness, _running from_ us.

Gavin pauses, looking up. When he finds Ryan watching him he looks almost embarrassed. He slows down, but Ryan can tell it’s an effort. He sighs and grabs three more bars from his bag, passing them over to Gavin, who looks so surprised that it makes something too much like guilt twist in Ryan’s stomach.

“What?” he demands. “You’re hungry, you eat. I’m not starving you here.”

“Thanks,” Gavin says again, and Ryan flaps a hand at him.

“Whatever.”

God, he hates this - the harshness, the hostility, how much he feels like it’s four years ago and he’s the Vagabond bringing a bounty back in - but he doesn’t know what else to do, how else to protect himself here - especially when Gavin seems to take that one moment of compassion as a cue to start talking to him.

“Are we driving all the way back?” he asks - tentatively - “Or are the others gonna pick us up in a chopper or something? It’d be quicker.”

“Can’t spare one,” Ryan replies, carefully. “Hell, we couldn’t even spare anyone other than me to come track you down. Got all hands on deck cleaning up this Glasgow fuck-up.”

“Oh,” Gavin says, and looks away.

“Yeah,” Ryan says, and scoffs. “Bit of a huge mess, y’know, realising our number one enemy has over a dozen double agents in our crew. And now that we know, he’s doubled his attacks on us. Making the most of his advantage while he has it. We can thank you for that,” he adds. “He didn’t know that we knew until, y’know, you went on your little murder spree.”

“I’m sorry,” Gavin replies, but doesn’t expand on it. Ryan just stares at him, and after a moment Gavin crumples up the wrapper of the bar he was eating and makes no move to open another one.

“Where were you going, anyway?” Ryan asks. “We’re a long way from AC. This isn’t even Glasgow’s territory. Where were you running?”

Gavin hesitates, and Ryan _knows_ the look in his eyes - it’s the look he’s seen hundreds of times before when interrogating their enemies - the look that means he’s calculating just how much he can safely reveal. It’s not something he ever expected to see directed at him from someone he thought he could trust. Someone he thought trusted _him_.

“A safehouse,” Gavin replies finally.

“A safehouse outside of AC?” Ryan demands. Gavin just shrugs.

“To do what?” Ryan asks then, and when Gavin doesn’t answer, “Call Glasgow? Convince him not to send his guys after you? ‘Cause that didn’t go very well, did it? Compromised assets aren’t worth much.”

‘ _Asset,’_ Gavin mouths, face twisting in a way Ryan can’t quite work out, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Or to wait this out? You think we might just _forget_ about all this?” Ryan tries then, and Gavin closes his eyes briefly.

“I can’t tell you,” he says, voice tight with frustration.

“Why?” Ryan demands. He’s getting pretty damn frustrated himself. He just - doesn’t _understand,_ how things could possibly have gone so wrong. “If you have an _explanation_ , as you fucking say - why run away from us?”

“I can’t _tell you_ ,” Gavin insists, and Ryan can’t help the anger that bursts through him-

“Why the _fuck_ not?” he shouts, and stands up - Gavin flinches back, bound hands rising like they can protect him.

“You’re scaring me,” he says quietly, and for a second Ryan feels terrible - for a second he turns away, breathing heavily, trying to calm himself down - but he looks back over at Gavin and notices how his fists are clenched, how if Ryan got too close they’d be ready to strike - how he’s got one leg up ready to bolt off the couch.

“No I’m not,” he replies, and scoffs out a hysterical sort of laugh. “No, I’m not. You’re not scared. You’re playing me. You’re trying to make me feel bad.”

Gavin looks away. Doesn’t deny it, and Ryan feels sick.

“Pretty fucking low, Gavin,” he spits. “I cared about you, we all did, and now what is that? Something for you to _use_? That’s disgusting.”

Gavin flinches - for real this time - and Ryan can only shake his head, angry again. He marches forward and Gavin’s breath catches a bit, leaning away from him, but Ryan just snatches up the uneaten bars.

“If you want more you’d better tell me now or you’ll get nothing until morning,” he says.

“I’m fine,” Gavin replies, voice tight.

“If you’re hungry just fucking eat it-”

“I’m not hungry,” Gavin snaps, and it’s so fucking mundane but the worst part is, Ryan can’t even tell now if he’s lying about _that_ or not. He throws the bars back into his bag and strides into the bathroom, breathing heavily, to cool off.

_You’re fine. You can do this. Get him back to the others. The others. The_ others.

God, he needs them.

He’s struggling to hold things together here. To look at Gavin like he’s a stranger. He’s _scared_ , he realises - scared about what’s going to happen. Scared about what they might find out once he brings Gavin back. Scared that what’s happened here might make the rest of them fall apart as well.

He takes a deep breath. Splashes some cold water on his face and then glances out into the main room - Gavin’s still sitting on the couch - before shutting the door part of the way and sitting on the edge of the grimy bathtub, pulling out his phone and dialling Geoff’s number.

The other man picks up immediately.

“Ryan?” He sounds exhausted, and Ryan closes his eyes briefly. Geoff’s been working double time cleaning up this whole mess.

“I’ve got him,” Ryan says, and hears Geoff suck in a little breath on the other end of the line.

“One second,” he says, and Ryan hears a few clatters, a murmur of voices - “You’re on speaker with Jack now.”

“You alright, Ry?” Jack asks, and Ryan can’t help but smile at the sound of his voice. It’s always reassuring.

“I’m okay. Where’re the others? Michael holding up okay?”

“They’re both out working,” Geoff replies. “Michael’s… alright, he’s taking it out on Glasgow. Two more attacks today, but we dealt with them both. I’m keeping an eye on him.”  
  
“What about Ray?” Ryan asks, and Geoff sighs a bit.

“Hard to tell. But we’re talking about Gav, here, Ryan - where was he? Did he say anything, did he… did he explain, or…?”

“I don’t know what there is to explain,” Ryan says, gruffly. “He was on the run. Said he was heading to a safe house. We’re a fucking long way from AC and when I caught up to him Glasgow’s men were there trying to take him out, so I guess that proves he was working for him. He keeps saying he can explain, but then refusing to tell me anything. Tried to run when I did catch up to him.”

There’s a miserable silence on the other end of the line.

“Damn it,” Geoff says finally, voice very flat. “Damn it, God _damn_ it, I… I thought maybe we were wrong but if Glasgow sent guys after him…”

“Yeah,” Ryan replies dully. “Anyway. I’ll bring him back and we’ll see what he has to say for himself.”

“He’s okay, though?” Jack pipes up. “He’s not… hurt or anything, is he?”

“He’s fine,” Ryan replies, glancing out through the gap in the door - Gavin still hasn’t moved - “Can’t say the same for me. He fucking broke my nose when I tried to grab him.”

“He hit you?” Geoff demands.

“We fought,” Ryan says. “But I have him now. I can get him back no trouble.”

Geoff starts to say something but is cut off - the sound of a door opening, then what sounds like Jeremy’s voice.

“Shit,” Geoff says. “I gotta take care of this - stay careful, Ryan. I’ll talk to you later. Love you,” he adds, and Ryan’s lips twitch a little.

“I love you too,” he replies. There’s a muffled commotion as Geoff leaves, then he hears Jack pick up the phone.

“Ryan?” he asks.

“Still here,” Ryan replies, with a small smile.

“Are you doing okay?” Jack’s voice is soft with concern. “I mean it. If he… if he did do it… it can’t be easy, bringing him back. Has he said anything, or…?”

Ryan swallows. Part of him wants to spill to Jack, to tell him everything - _it’s killing me to look at him, I can’t tell if he’s lying or not, I don’t know what to think. I don’t know what to_ do.

But something holds him back - some cold, cautious part of himself. Because even if they’re all together - it hasn’t been that long yet. There are still things they try to deal with themselves, still times when they can’t quite bring themselves to look so _weak_ \- and these last three weeks, chasing Gavin across the country, something’s hardened in Ryan again.

“I’m fine,” he replies, flatly. “I’ve got it handled.”

“Has he tried to run since…”

“No,” Ryan says. “He can’t run. I’ve got it handled, Jack.”

Jack pauses. When he speaks again his voice is cautious.

“What do you mean he can’t?"

“I mean,” Ryan explains, with exaggerated patience, “That I’ve tied him up and I’m keeping an eye on him.”

Jack makes an indignant sort of noise, and Ryan tenses.  
  
“Ryan! Is that really necessary?”

“Yes,” Ryan snaps. “What do you want me to do, Jack? Just leave him roaming free? So that the second I fall asleep he can just grab the car keys and open the door and waltz right out? Fucking hell.”

Jack doesn’t seem to have an answer to that. He’s silent for a long moment, then Ryan hears him let out a tired sigh.

“You haven’t hurt him, have you?” he asks quietly.

“No.”

“I mean it, Ryan,” Jack insists, stern now. “You said you fought-”

“I haven’t fucking hurt him.” Perhaps he’s a little too defensive, too angry, “Not any more than I had to to subdue him. Jesus Christ, what do you think I am, Jack? I’m not fucking enjoying this-”

“Okay, okay,” Jack cuts in, a bit guiltily. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that, I just… when you left to go after him you were so angry.” He scoffs out a humourless laugh. “You were _so angry,_ Ryan. I was… scared. Scared of what you’d do when you found him, scared of how this was affecting you - this hasn’t been easy for any of us. And even talking to you now,” he adds wryly, “I can tell you’re mad about all this. I can tell you’re pulling away from us.”

Ryan doesn’t know what to say to that. He’s silent for a long moment, unable to deny it. Finally he huffs.

“You’re too perceptive for your own good, Jack,” he murmurs, but there’s something almost fond in it. Jack’s always been able to read him well.

Jack chuckles, but quickly turns serious again.

“No matter what,” he says, “This is still _Gavin_. Remember that.”

“Who is Gavin?” Ryan shoots back. “He’s sure as hell not who we _thought_ he was.”

“We don’t know that yet.”

“We pretty much do,” Ryan mutters. “You shouldn’t get your hopes up that this is all some big misunderstanding. It’ll hurt more when we confirm he’s a traitor.”

“Oh, Ryan.” Jack’s voice is on an edge between annoyed and upset. “It couldn’t _all_ have been a lie. Not everything. Not how close we all were-”

“He’s convincing,” Ryan grunts. “Even now he’s been trying to play me, trying to get me to let my guard down.”

And it hurts, the thought that everything they went through together could have been a lie. That how close they got - how much he thought Gavin loved them, _all_ of them - might’ve been nothing more than a way of getting them to trust him so he could stab them in the back later.

And if he’s been working for Glasgow this whole time, there’s no way he could have fallen for them, gotten into a relationship with them, without lying to them this whole time. It makes Ryan sick to think about, makes his stomach ache and his head hurt, but he needs to prepare himself for the worst.

Jack’s silent a long moment.

“I won’t give up on him,” he says finally. “Bring him home, Ry. We’ll work this out.”

“You’re going to get hurt,” Ryan snaps back - almost pleading, somehow - Jack doesn’t answer that, and after a moment Ryan sighs.

“I need to sleep,” he mutters, and Jack sighs.

“Yes. Of course. Goodnight, Ryan - I love you.” Even now, Ryan can’t help but relax a little at the words - but a second later, Jack adds, “Go tell Gavin I love him.”  
  
“ _What_.”

“Do it, Ryan.” There’s something stern in Jack’s voice, and Ryan lets out a low growl.

“I’m not putting him on the fucking phone. He can wait until we’re all back together to talk to you guys.”

“Then you tell him,” Jack insists. “ _Do it_ , Ryan, I don’t care how _you_ feel about him. I want you to tell him. And I want to hear you actually say it.”

Ryan lets out an annoyed hiss of breath. This hope, this optimism, it’s part of what he loves about Jack but right now it’s _infuriating_ because _he’s going to get hurt_ , when it turns out this was a lie all along, that they can’t trust Gavin - it’ll hurt Jack even more than if he started preparing himself now.

But the other man is stubborn as hell, and after a moment Ryan slams the bathroom door open and marches out. Gavin looks up, eyes wide - Ryan doesn’t doubt he’s been trying to listen in, even if Ryan was speaking quietly.

“Jack says he loves you,” Ryan snaps, and Gavin looks stricken. He bites his lip and turns away and Ryan turns back to the phone.

“Did he say anything?” Jack asks - oddly tentative.

“No,” Ryan replies, and then sighs, suddenly feeling far too upset. “Goodnight, Jack. I love you.”

“Come back safe, Ryan,” Jack says. He sounds so sad that for a moment Ryan could cry. When he hangs up Ryan stands for a moment, the phone pressed to his ear, getting himself under control.

God, he wants Ray.

Finally he lowers the phone and turns back to Gavin. The other man is looking away, lips pressed tightly together, and Ryan feels a sudden flaring anger towards him.

“You’re hurting them,” he snaps. “By doing all this. Geoff, Jack, Michael, Ray. You’re hurting them a lot.”

“You don’t understand,” Gavin croaks out, voice ragged, and Ryan strides towards him.

“Because you won’t _tell me_ what’s going _on_ ,” he snaps. “Why? Because you don’t trust me? If you don’t trust me, Gavin, how can I fucking trust _you_?”

Gavin just covers his face for a moment, breathing shakily, and Ryan breaks a little, for a second, his anger slipping away, the raw hurt and upset bursting out-

“ _Please_ , Gavin,” he nearly begs, “Please just tell me what fucking happened here, if you…. if you didn’t do what we all think you did-”

“I _can’t_ ,” Gavin cries, and drops his hands. His eyes are very red. “I bloody _can’t_ , Ryan…” He must see the disbelief in Ryan’s face because he adds, in a raw sort of whisper, “I’m not allowed.”

Okay. Okay. So there is some untold story here.

“Who’s not letting you?” Ryan demands. “Glasgow?”

Gavin shakes his head, but doesn’t say more, and after a moment Ryan turns away with a heavy sigh, reaching up to rub at his temples.

“Is it to protect us?” he demands - that would be understandable - “You can’t tell me because it would put me or the others in danger?”

Gavin’s quiet for a moment. When Ryan turns back around he looks upset.

“No,” Gavin replies softly. “That’s not it.”

“Then _what_?” Ryan shouts, frustration rising up again. That, he could have accepted. That, he could understand. But now he can’t think of any other good reason Gavin would refuse to talk.

Gavin just sits, silent, miserable, and after a moment Ryan sighs.

“At least tell me this,” he says. “All this time, with the Fake AH Crew - have you been secretly working for someone else?”

“I can’t tell you, Ryan,” Gavin repeats - God, he’s getting sick of those words.

“Let’s try this then,” Ryan says. “The list that hacker came up with, the double agents - was it true? Have you been feeding information to Glasgow the last few years?”

Gavin looks away and Ryan’s heart sinks. It’s true or Gavin would have said no.

“It’s not what you think,” Gavin insists again, weakly, and again Ryan can’t tell if it’s a lie, “It’s not… it’s not what you think.”

Ryan throws his hands up and turns away again. He doesn’t know what to do, he _wants_ to hope here but can’t let himself, he _wants_ to believe Gavin has some explanation but how can he believe what the other man’s refusing to _tell_ him? What’s stopping him here?

“Ryan…” Gavin begins, desperately.

Ryan takes a deep breath. Forces himself to harden again, go cold. He turns back to Gavin and says, very calmly, “I’m going to ask you one very simple question. Maybe you can fucking answer this one.”

Gavin’s eyes are wide.

“Have you been lying to us?” Ryan asks, and sees Gavin falter - “It’s not a hard question, Gavin. Yes or no. Have you been lying to us?”

Gavin swallows hard.

“Yes,” he whispers.

“For how long?” Ryan demands, and Gavin closes his eyes for a long moment.

“Since I joined the crew,” he admits, “Since I became one of your main six.”

Ryan feels sick.

He wasn’t sure what was worse. If Gavin had been lying this whole time, or if he’d been turned by Glasgow at some point. But now, now all he can think is that _nothing is real_ , that this whole time he’s never really known who Gavin was - that every time he thought he was connecting with the other man it might have been a lie-

All this time, all the faces Gavin wears, he thought they’d gotten through to who he really was. He thought he’d fallen for the man under there.

But here they are now.

“Explain,” he says again, and Gavin lets out a distressed sort of choking noise.

“ _I can’t_. Don’t you think I would if I could?”

There’s an awful silence. The rain has gotten heavier outside, a constant background drumming that’s giving Ryan a hell of a headache. He forces himself to breathe deeply and the exhaustion seeps back in again.

“You’re not who I thought you were,” he says finally, and turns to Gavin, miserably. “I thought the six of us were different. I thought we could all trust each other.”

Gavin looks wrecked, and Ryan makes one last effort. Crouches next to him and leans in-

“If you trust me,” he begs, “Then tell me why.” And then, when Gavin falters, “If you _love_ me, then tell me why-”

“Please don’t,” Gavin croaks, and Ryan can’t help it; he lets out a growl of frustration and slams a fist down against the armrest of the couch. Gavin jumps, shying back away from him, and Ryan feels sick. Feels like a monster. Feels like the Vagabond again, like it’s four years ago and Michael looks at him warily and Geoff won’t let him be in a room alone with a client and none of them know what he looks like under the mask.

This is bringing out the worst in all of them.

He stands up and marches over to the bed.

“You know I’m a light sleeper,” he snaps. “If I hear you get up for anything other than the bathroom I’ll tie you to the radiator.”

Gavin nods, and Ryan switches out the light, leaving only the desk lamp on. The bed isn’t far from the couch and when he climbs in he’s too conscious of Gavin watching him. He’s tired but so wired that he knows it’ll be hard to actually sleep tonight, despite how exhausted he is.

“I’m sorry,” Gavin says suddenly, quietly, just as Ryan reaches to turn off the lamp.

He freezes, stiffening. In the corner of his eye he can see Gavin, staring at the floor, shoulders hunched up. But he grits his teeth and ignores it and switches off the light, plunging the room into darkness.

Apologies don’t mean shit if you won’t back them up.

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

The thing is, when it came to the five of them, there was never any real need to discuss that all of them would end up together. It was always just assumed, that unspoken knowledge that there was something between all of them. That something would happen, even after they started getting together in pairs.

But with Gavin, it’s different. They haven’t known him as long - and since he’s come in late, it means the feelings are starting to develop after the rest of them are already together. And at first, Ryan’s a little worried that he’s pushing too far and too fast - that the others might not feel the same way - that trying to add someone else might unbalance them, might throw everything out of whack, that he might be the one to _ruin_ things by thinking about this-

He’s too afraid to bring it up at first. Settles on watching the others, watching Gavin, trying to work out how they might fit together.

And quickly, Ryan begins to realise that he’s not the only one interested.

 

* * *

 

Three days. A small group of weapons dealers who’ve managed to get themselves in possession of some rocket launchers. Gavin’s cover is a new trader working with the group, hooking them up with some suppliers while trying to scope out who they’re selling the launchers to. He grows a beard and dyes all his hair black and carries himself heavily, with thudding steps and stiff shoulders and a harsher note to his voice.

It’s a short job, and when he comes back to the base to report to them he’s still in full disguise, which involves big steel-toed boots and a truly horrifying denim jacket that Ryan will never be able to unsee.

“Is that dye permanent, Gavvy?” Michael asks, where he’s lounging in the board room doing nothing remotely productive and distracting Ryan by flicking little rolled up bits of paper at him. It’s just the two of them here, working late, and Gavin catching up on a few things he missed while he was away.

“God no,” Gavin replies, looking up and grinning. It’s a bit unsettling; the dark beard and eyebrows are making his face look gaunter, rougher, but the smile he gives now is his real one, not the little crooked half-smirk that Ryan saw him doing before. “I’d never be able to get it back to normal. It’d all fall out if I tried to bleach it back from this. It’ll wash out in a few days.”

“It’s weird, your whole face looks different,” Michael supplies, and rolls his chair over so vigorously that he nearly slams right into Gavin. The other man squeaks, hand rising to stop Michael smashing into him, but Michael puts a foot out to catch himself and then reaches out and rather unceremoniously grabs Gavin’s chin, tilting his head around.

“Bad different?” Gavin asks, letting himself be manhandled.

Michael lets go of him and ruffles his hair.

“Nah,” he says. “It’s just a bit strange, I’ve never seen you with hair that dark before. Makes your eyes look bluer.”

This last part is mumbled slightly awkwardly, like he didn’t mean to actually say it out loud. It’s an odd stumble for Michael, who can usually play anything off, and Ryan looks up from his work, watching the two of them carefully - Michael’s hand still resting on the back of Gavin’s chair, Gavin staring at him with wide eyes, seeming a little unsure how to respond.

“Wait ‘til you see me with contacts in,” he manages finally. “I look really different with brown eyes.”

“I bet,” Michael replies, but seems a bit flustered now. His solution is apparently to spin his chair around and then roll right to the door and clean out of the room, Gavin staring after him in bemusement.

“That was weird,” he says, and Ryan can’t tell if he’s genuinely oblivious or if he’s just trying to play it off. But Gavin turns to Ryan then instead. “Ryan, do you like my hair Ryan?”

“I think most colours suit you,” Ryan replies. “But do you like it?”

“I prefer blond.”

“I think blond suits you too,” Ryan says, and Gavin gives his own little smile again.

Still, it’s a strange moment, and when Ryan hunts down Michael later on it’s to find the other man obviously worked up about something. He’s up on the roof shooting cans, and he looks awkward enough when Ryan finds him that he knows something’s up.

“ _Makes your eyes look bluer_ ,” Ryan imitates exaggeratedly, unable to help himself, and when Michael goes red and kicks an empty soda at him Ryan knows this is something serious.

“Shut up,” Michael says.

“What’s got you so flustered? It’s not like you.” He sits on one of the shabby plastic deck chairs they’ve got lying around and Michael puts his gun away and sighs, moving to pick up all the rubbish lying around.

“I wasn’t trying to flirt with him,” he says defensively.

“No one said you were,” Ryan replies calmly - but Michael darts a little, uncertain glance at him and Ryan realises suddenly that he’s worried about the exact same thing Ryan was worried about before. He gets up and walks over to Michael and pulls the bag of rubbish from his hand, turning him gently around.

“He does look very good with dark hair,” he says, so solemnly that Michael starts laughing. He glances up at Ryan again and relaxes, seeming to realise exactly what Ryan’s trying to say - that they’re both not sure - that they’re both seeing where it goes - that it’s _okay_ , for now, to take things slowly, that it’s not going to ruin everything - and when Ryan tugs him forward into a kiss there’s something relieved in it for both of them.

 

* * *

 

Two and a half weeks. An accounting firm that they suspect has been laundering money in league with the Corpirate. Gavin’s cover is a new intern, and when he returns from the job he’s clean shaven, blonde again, with wide bright eyes and an innocent, eager to please look that would make anyone trust him. With shoes so shiny that Ryan can practically see his reflection in them, and a neatly pressed white business shirt, he doesn’t look much like a criminal.

“How’d you keep your cover up when you’re so shit at math, though?” Ryan asks as he and Ray hang around watching Gavin print out all the files that he snuck pictures of while he was there.

“I wasn’t doing any maths, _Ryan_ ,” Gavin replies. He’s been smiling since he returned, seeming happy to be back with the rest of them. “I was an intern. I just made coffee and stuff. I stapled _so many things_.”

Ray’s staring at Gavin, and when Gavin turns and smiles at him he looks suddenly flustered.

“That’s kinda hot,” Ray says, and Gavin raises one eyebrow which, okay, _that’s_ kind of hot-

“Stapling, Ray?” Gavin demands, and laughs. “Really? That does it for you?”

He lifts both hands and makes motions like he’s squeezing staplers, which of course only sort of looks like he’s jerking two people off very, very strangely, and Ray splutters indignantly.

“No, not the stapling,” he says, and scoffs. “Because office supplies are so sexy. I meant the whole office boy thing, you know… I dunno.” He motions at Gavin, with his gelled up hair and his sleeves rolled up past his elbows and the faint scent of cologne, and Gavin’s grin widens.

“ _Ooooh_ ,” he intones in a deep voice, “ _Laminating_.”

Ray chuckles.

“Yeah, that’s doing it,” he says, but his face is still very red.

It’s so ridiculous that Ryan cracks up laughing, and it distracts him enough that he doesn’t notice Gavin’s stepped towards Ray until he’s already right up in front of him.

“Is it?” he asks, voice low - Ray stops laughing - Gavin leans in a bit too close, and he’s not smiling any more, and Ryan falters as well - a tense silence falls in the room, and Ryan’s still trying to figure out how the mood changed so suddenly, but Gavin and Ray are just _staring_ at each other, Ray’s eyes wide, something too intent in Gavin’s gaze.

“I can be,” Gavin murmurs finally, right in Ray’s ear, “Whoever you want me to be.”

Ray swallows so hard that Ryan sees his throat moving from where he’s standing across the room. Gavin moves back a bit, eyes scanning over Ray, something almost challenging in it. When the other man doesn’t reply, Gavin’s face falls a little, but he quickly covers it up with a strained smile and turns, whisking his documents out of the printer and hurrying out of the room.

Ray slumps back against the table and laughs a bit hysterically.

“Ummm… that was weird,” he says. “Was he hitting on me or angry at me?”

“Both, I think,” Ryan replies distractedly. He’s staring out the door after Gavin. Something’s nagging at him, something almost familiar. Like he knows what just happened here, what made Gavin close off so suddenly, but he just can’t quite put the pieces together to see it clearly.

Ray comes up next to him and tugs at his sleeve.

“You’re not mad at him, are you?” he asks tentatively, and Ryan blinks at him.

“If he was hitting on you?” he asks. “Not unless he was making you uncomfortable.”

“No,” Ray replies, and bites his lip, and says, “It’s Gavin,” as though that explains everything, and somehow it does. Somehow Ryan understands.

It’s obviously still bothering Ray, though, because later he tells Geoff about what happened, when he and Ryan go over to the other man’s apartment to stay the night. Geoff listens in silence and then just says “Hmmm” and nods, and for a few minutes they’re all just sitting there in a row on the couch staring at the TV in front of them even though it’s off - Ryan can feel Geoff, leaning against him on one side, Ray pressed close to his other shoulder - and he thinks about it, about the look on Gavin’s face and _I can be whoever you want me to be_ and _a pretty face and a nice smile. It’s all I have_.

He thinks he understands.

“It’s hard enough for me sometimes,” he says - Geoff and Ray turn to look at him and he feels suddenly nervous, but he swallows hard and continues, “Remembering how I used to be the Vagabond. That wasn’t me - not the real me - and even now, when I put on the mask, sometimes I look at myself and it’s hard to remember who I actually am. It’s better, now, with you guys,” he adds.

Geoff slips his hand into his. Tangles their fingers together and squeezes gently, and Ryan shoots him a small smile.

“But that’s just one mask. I can’t even imagine what it must be like to get into a different character every second week. To spend more time as other people than as myself.”

“Fucking method acting,” Geoff mumbles, and Ryan nods. He turns to Ray, who’s watching him silently, eyes wide.

“Gavin’s kinda messed up,” Ryan starts, and Geoff nods.

“Aren’t we all,” he sighs, and Ray leans forward, bumping his forehead against Ryan’s shoulder.

“I didn’t mean to upset him,” he begins, and Ryan wraps an arm around him and tugs him close, leaning in to press a kiss to his hair.

“I know. I don’t think he’s mad at you. I think all this… this mask crap is just making it harder for him to work out how he feels. And to work out how we feel about him.”

Ray stiffens, glancing at Geoff almost guiltily, like he isn’t sure if the other man is okay with everything that’s going unsaid here - but Geoff just leans over Ryan to try and kiss Ray as well, which makes Ryan yell when he’s suddenly squashed between them and Geoff’s elbow is digging into his stomach.

They all start laughing, and they focus on just enjoying their evening together - but it makes Ryan think, maybe this is another thing that they’ll just let happen, that they just won’t talk about-

And it isn’t good; they _should_ be talking about it, they should be laying out clearly exactly what’s going on here and what they want and then, probably, making it very clear to _Gavin_ exactly what’s going on here-

But Geoff doesn’t bring it up, and Ray certainly isn’t going to, so Ryan doesn’t either. Just waits, and hopes, and assumes things will figure themselves out.

 

* * *

 

Twenty days. Gavin’s posing as a gun for hire, offering his services on a job one of their rival crews is planning to take out one of the FAHC’s safehouses down by the docks. He paints his face, white and black and blue, and his mask is a skull like Ryan’s but white, with sharper angles and edges. Looks more like actual bone.

The plan is for him to sabotage the job right as it’s taking place, and Ryan comes in to back him up with a team of their own guns. The rival crew is weak and with Gavin having already blown up half their men in a deliberately mistimed explosion, it’s easy pickings.

Still. In the haze of gunfire and explosions and several boats ending up on fire, it’s hard for Ryan to keep track of what’s going on, and by the time things calm down and he meets up with Gavin at their getaway spot - this safehouse is gone to shit anyway; the police are coming and they’re leaving the final few members of that other gang for them to deal with - they’re both breathing heavily, and covered in soot, and Gavin is soaking wet for some reason.

"Get in,” Ryan says, pulling up next to him. Gavin scrambles into the car and Ryan speeds away, grimacing when he sees a police chopper start to fly up overhead. “You okay?”

Gavin nods, and pulls his mask off. There’s a graze on his head sending blood trickling down his cheek, onto his shoulder, matted all through his hair. In the light of streetlamps and passing cars he looks like a ghost with his face painted all white, smudged streaks of black and blue mixing with the blood like bruises.

“Don’t know how you wear this shit all the time,” he mumbles, reaching up and wiping his face, then seeming to realise that was a very bad idea when his sleeve comes away smeared with paint. “Oh God, I just licked my lips accidentally, it tastes so bad.”

"Here.” Ryan fumbles in the glovebox when they pause at a light and tosses him a packet of wet wipes; Gavin takes it gratefully and starts cleaning the paint off. Ryan can’t stop watching him. He wonders if this is what it’s like for the others when they watch him take his own mask off, wash away the paint he wears nearly constantly. If it’s a relief for them to see his face emerging from under it the way it’s suddenly a relief now to see Gavin’s familiar features as he cleans himself up.

“Are you okay?” Gavin asks then, turning to him suddenly.

“I’m fine,” Ryan replies - his ribs ache a little where he had to throw himself to the ground at one point, and it’s annoying that the police have shown up and this safehouse is busted, but he’s come out of jobs a lot worse. “Just bruises.”

“Thanks for picking me up.”

“All part of the plan,” Ryan says, but smiles at him, and after a second Gavin smiles back. He looks exhausted, and after a moment he rests his head against the window and appears to fall asleep. It doesn’t take long for them to get back into the city, and they’re not being followed, so Ryan takes his time driving back, careful not to take any sharp turns that might make Gavin hit his head.

When he finally pulls up at the base he glances up and sees some lights still on - the others are all still in, then, probably waiting for them to get back. They’ve been waiting for a while for this job to take place; it’s always risky when one of Gavin’s undercover missions involves actively sabotaging whoever he’s supposedly working for. A lot can go wrong.

“Gavin,” Ryan whispers, and reaches out, gently nudging his arm. “Wake up, we’re here.”

Gavin stirs sleepily. For a moment Ryan contemplates just picking him up and carrying him inside, but after a moment his eyes crack open and he realises they’ve returned. He murmurs something Ryan can’t quite make out and then gets out of the car and trudges inside with slow, mechanical movements, like he’s on autopilot.

“Hey, hey,” Ryan says, coming up by his side. He grabs his arm and steadies him before he can trip on the steps leading up into the building. When they’re running on adrenaline during a job, exhaustion goes to the back of your mind, but if you let it back in even for a second it’s overwhelming. The second Gavin dozed off in the car it was all over. “I’ll tell Geoff you’ll debrief with him later. Just go wash up.”

“M’fine,” Gavin mumbles, but he’s sinking slowly against Ryan’s side and the other man can’t help but laugh as he puts an arm around his waist and hauls him upright, reaching out to open the base door with his keycard.

“Pretty sure you just fell asleep for a second there, buddy,” he says, and steers Gavin into the elevator, up to the living quarters, and then pushes him gently off in the direction of the bathroom. “Go get yourself cleaned up and then get some sleep.”

“G’night Rye-bread,” Gavin replies, and Ryan can only laugh again as he turns and heads off to the largest of the bedrooms, where he expects the others are waiting.

They are. Geoff’s standing by the window, phone pressed to his ear. He looks up and raises his eyebrows at Ryan when he comes in, but smiles, and Ryan figures that even if they lost the safehouse their enemies have all been taken care of. The others are all piled up on the bed, and Ryan waves at them as he wanders over to dresser and strips off his jacket, then undershirt, grabbing some clean clothes.

“Everything go okay?” Michael asks. He’s lounging on the bed watching Ryan undress shamelessly, only to frown as he reaches out and his fingers brush over Ryan’s bruised ribs. “You hurt?”

“Just bruises,” Ryan assures him, and leans in to kiss him. Michael lets out an approving hum, reaching up behind Ryan’s head to pull his ponytail free and tangle his fingers in his hair - Ryan relaxes under his touch, but a moment later Ray’s nudging up under his arm, pushing Michael out of the way.

“My turn,” he says with a grin, and Michael growls, snatching up a pillow and whacking at him. Ryan can only laugh as he turns to kiss Ray quickly before exchanging a glance with Jack, who’s rolling his eyes.

“Give me a minute to wash up,” he says, and can’t quite stop grinning as he escapes into the bathroom, something warm and fond swelling up in his chest as he glances over his shoulder to see Michael pulling Ray closer to him in the bed.

By the time he’s cleaned himself up some and returns to the others, Geoff’s finished up and all of them are huddled up on the three beds they’ve pushed together to make room for all of them. Jack ushers Ryan into the middle and he has to laugh as he clambers over them to squeeze in between Michael and Geoff. His muscles ache and he’s dead tired but surrounded here by the others he’s giddily, ridiculously happy. To be able to come back to the others after a hard job, be surrounded by their warmth and comfort and laughter, is such a far cry from his old days as the Vagabond, from crawling into a cold bed alone with just a cigarette or a drink for company before struggling to sleep at night. But he doesn’t like to think about that.

He lets his mind drift, vaguely listening to the others’ conversations as Geoff’s hand strokes through his hair and Michael massages his shoulders.

“-that was Gavin,” he hears Jack say, and stirs at the mention of the other man’s name - the others have fallen silent and he realises that they’re listening to the sound of the bathroom door opening out in the hall. There’s a patter of soft footsteps and then another of the bedroom doors shuts.

“He okay?” Geoff asks, turning to Ryan, who nods.

“Just exhausted,” Ryan replies. “I told him he could debrief in the morning.”

“It feels weird,” Michael speaks up abruptly. “Us all in here and him alone out there…”

He trails off, seeming uncertain, but Ryan sees Jack and Geoff exchange a glance.

“Yeah,” Jack says quietly, and reaches out over Ryan to squeeze Michael’s shoulder. “It does feel weird.”

Michael looks relieved, and there’s a moment where they all look at each other and despite how tired he is, Ryan can tell what they’re all thinking; that there’s another missing piece, that there’s room for Gavin to fit in here too, if he wants to. That they _all_ want him to.

Gavin will be fine for tonight, Ryan knows. He’s probably dead to the world already. But with this new knowledge that they’re all feeling somewhat the same way about the situation, something relieved settles over all of them. Like now that this silence has been broken they can finally start working out what’s going on. What they want. What they’re going to do.

 

* * *

 

The thing is, the five of them are going so well.

It’s probably cliched to call it a ‘honeymoon period’, but that’s honestly what it is. Since they got together it feels like everything has finally fallen into place. There are little things at first, of course. Geoff stressing out about who should know they were all together now. Ryan coming back from violent jobs and pulling away from the rest of them, afraid of corrupting the good they have together with the bad he sees in himself. Ray feeling overwhelmed, or Michael feeling uncertain of his place.

But they dealt with them, together - because above all, they want this. Ryan wants this. So they make it work.

And it’s amazing. He’s happier than ever. He’s loving coming back to his apartment and finding the others’ stuff strewn around the place from all the times they’ve stayed over. He likes them eating breakfast together, or meeting for dinner when they can, or all sitting around the kitchen after working late while Jack makes them midnight pancakes and they know they’re all gonna head to bed together.

He likes Michael doing his face paint for him, and Ray lying across his lap while he plays his DS, and Geoff playing with his hair while he reads a book, and laughing with Jack on long car trips.

For the first time he has something good here, something that’s working - something that he’s not afraid he might lose, or drive away.

 

* * *

 

It’s hard to ignore how easily Gavin fits into things.

Ryan walks into the base one day after a job to find him wrestling with Geoff on the floor. He can tell that Geoff’s just at the level of drunk that he won’t give in until he wins; his face is flushed and he won’t stop giggling as he tries to pin Gavin down.

Gavin’s laughing as well; he’s squirming trying to get away but Geoff’s practically sitting on him and because he’s Gavin, and he plays dirty, after a moment he goes for Geoff’s nipple, twisting hard. Geoff yells and falls on top of him, and by this point Gavin’s laughing too hard to even try to get free.

Ryan watches them from the doorway, barely even realising how he’s smiling. The two of them, sprawled on top of each other, Geoff’s face pressed into Gavin’s shoulder as he shakes with laughter, Gavin’s hand resting on the side of Geoff’s waist - it all works too well. They’re so close already. Ryan wants to walk in there and wrap his arms around Geoff’s waist and kiss him - but he wants to kiss Gavin, too, and feel that laugh against his lips.

It’s the first time he’s let himself properly entertain the thought and he feels bad, somehow, like it’s not fair to think about it without the others there. He retreats to the roof, standing and watching the sun start to set over Achievement City. The sky is red when Jack comes to find him, moving up next to him and bumping their shoulders together.

“What’s on your mind?” he asks softly, and Ryan bites his lip.

“Thinking about Gavin,” he admits.

“That’s a relief,” Jack replies, and Ryan glances over at him in confusion.

“What?”

“Michael saw you go up here earlier,” Jack tells him. “Came and told me you were standing all pensive up on the roof. We thought something was wrong.”

“Something _is_ wrong,” Ryan grunts, and Jack tugs his arm until they’re facing each other, raising his eyebrows.

“Is it?” he asks. “Should thinking about Gavin not be a good thing? A happy thing?”

“That’s the problem,” Ryan says, and takes a moment to get his thoughts in order. Jack waits patiently until he finally admits, haltingly. “I feel like I’m… cheating.”

Jack gives him an alarmed look, and Ryan shakes his head, stumbling over his words as he struggles to explain, “Not… I don’t know, just. To think about him like… like that when I’m already with all you guys-”

“Was it cheating,” Jack asks carefully, “That you liked Geoff and I while you were with Ray?”

“That was different,” Ryan says. “We all knew something was gonna happen.”

“I think we know something’s gonna happen here,” Jack tells him, and Ryan doesn’t know what to say. He looks away, back out over the city, and after a moment Jack sighs and runs a hand down his arm.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and Ryan looks back at him, confused.

“What for?”

“For not talking to you about this sooner,” Jack says. “It’s not… good, that we didn’t sit down and all discuss it. With so many of us in this relationship we need to… to communicate with each other. I’ve been talking to Geoff and Michael about this Gavin thing-”

“What?” Ryan demands. “When?”

“Very recently,” Jack assures him. “Because the two of them know Gavin best, you know? And the three of us, we know what we want.”

Ryan stares at him and after a moment Jack catches himself.

“Sorry,” he says, “We need to be frank about this, don’t we? We want Gavin to join us. But only if we’re all in agreement. Except we weren’t sure about you and Ray, and we didn’t want to bring it up and scare you off because what we have, the five of us, it’s good, and we didn’t want to ruin it by rushing into something if _all_ of us aren’t sure.”

Hearing the words finally said out loud, instead of nothing but vagueties and implications, is a crushing relief, and despite himself Ryan smiles.

“It wouldn’t scare me off,” he tells Jack, who smiles back.

“Yeah, we figured it was looking that way.”

The door to the roof opens then and they both turn. Michael emerges, grinning as he wanders up to them.

“Hey,” he says, and Ryan grins and nudges him.

“So you’re in love with Gav, then, huh?” he asks, and Michael goes red for a moment, looking briefly surprised before a huge smile spread across his face.

“He’s my boi,” he replies, and Jack snorts.

“Ryan’s been daydreaming about him,” he informs him, and Ryan splutters indignantly while Michael stares at him before bursting out laughing.

“Oh my God, you’re not even denying it.” He punches Ryan’s arm lightly and Ryan covers his face for a moment, embarrassed, before Michael tugs his arm down and then slips his hand into his, squeezing gently.

"You sure you’re okay with this?” he asks, seriously, and Ryan’s nod is certain.

“Things feel better with all of you,” he says, and glances at the door. “But I think they feel complete with him.”

Jack and Michael exchange a smile before Jack turns back to him.

“Can you talk to Ray about this?” he asks. “This is something we _all_ need to be sure about, but I don’t wanna overwhelm him by asking with all of us there.”

“You don’t want to do it?” Ryan asks, looking over at Michael - they knew each other before he did - but Michael shakes his head.

“You’re close to him. I think he’s more likely to tell you if he doesn’t want this.”

“I think he does,” Ryan muses, and Jack smiles.

“That’s what Geoff said, but we gotta be sure.”

“Okay,” Ryan says, and feels that fluttering excitement he did right before he told Ray, before they brought in Michael, on that first date with all five of them. It must show in his face, because Jack laughs again, and pulls him in and kisses him hard before turning and kissing Michael as well, the other man still clutching Ryan’s hand in his.

 

* * *

 

Ryan and Ray live the closest to each other, so they spend a lot of time at each other’s flats even when the others aren’t around. It isn’t hard for Ryan to decide that that’s the best time to bring it up; when it’s just the two of them, curled up in bed together after a reasonably uneventful day. Neither of them are touchy enough to cuddle much but they like to lie with their legs stretched out enough to brush against each other.

“So about Gavin,” Ryan says - he’s been lying still for a while, Ray playing his DS on silent next to him, the screen lighting up the room a dim blue. He pauses it now, placing it on the bedside table before rolling over to face Ryan.

“Been waiting for you to ask,” Ray says, and then, when Ryan turns to him in confusion, “You guys have been staring at him all week, you weren’t exactly subtle. You all talk about it already?”

“They’re worried about you,” Ryan says, and Ray’s lips twitch.

“What, worried that I’m the only one who doesn’t like him?”

“No,” Ryan replies, though he’s relieved that Ray isn’t freaking out or anything. “Worried it might be hard for you, adding someone else.”

Ray hums. He rolls onto his back again, his ankle bumping up against Ryan’s.

“Well, it was hard enough trusting you lot,” he says, rather jovially. “After working alone for so long. But I like Gavin a lot.”

“Liking him a lot is very different from wanting to add him to a relationship that’s already got a very fragile balance,” Ryan points out, and Ray turns to him again.

“You’re wrong,” he says quietly - Ryan raises his eyebrows - “It’s not fragile. We’re making it work. Going pretty fucking well if you ask me.”

Ryan can only stare at him; aside from himself, Ray’s always been the wariest, the one who kept to himself at first, who finds it difficult to let the others in. To hear him sound so absolutely confident in them is unexpected - but reassuring.

“But fine,” Ray says after a moment, and sighs, rolling onto his back to gaze up at the dark ceiling again. “Gavin makes me laugh, and smile, and feel happy. It’s hard sometimes, killing people from afar like I do. I’m rarely down on the ground with you lot when I snipe but he always makes me still feel like a part of it when he says something stupid over the comm or asks me one of his dumb questions.”

There’s an open affection in Ray’s voice that makes Ryan smile, turning over to gaze fondly at him as he continues, “And I admire how skilled he is. Not just with his lying and his disguises and stuff, but with a gun and a knife - he’s impressive. And that’s attractive because I know you don’t get that good without working really damn hard at it. But at the same time, he’s so innocent sometimes that it’s adorable.”

“Spell attic out loud,” Ryan mumbles, and Ray guffaws.

“Yeah, I still can’t believe he didn’t get that. What else do you want me to say, Ryan? That I love watching him with Michael because I can see how happy they make each other? That seeing how protective Geoff is over him makes me want to protect him too? That I couldn’t stop kicking myself for thinking that I upset him before because I never want him to think that I don’t love him for who he is, not who he pretends to be on all those jobs? He fucking fell asleep on me in the car the other day and I didn’t want him to move even after my arm got a cramp. Did you hear that, Ry? I would suffer a fucking cramp so that he could get some sleep. Is that proof enough that I want him in this shit with us?”

Ryan laughs. He shifts closer to Ray on the bed and wraps his arms around him, leaning in to press a soft kiss to the side of his neck, then another to his jaw.

“That was sweet,” he murmurs. “You’re sweet.”

“Excuse you, I’m a dangerous criminal,” Ray replies, but he’s laughing a bit. “I’m a notorious sniper.”

Ryan hums, and when Ray turns to face him he brings a hand up to cup the other man’s cheek, pulling him in to kiss him on the lips.

“I’m glad you’re okay with this,” he says, and Ray smiles at him.

“You are too?” he asks, and there’s no hesitation in Ryan’s nod this time.

“‘Course. And this won’t change what the five of us have,” he adds. “Just make it better.”

“Good,” Ray replies. And then, “I was halfway through a Pokemon battle-”

“Oh my God, we were trying to have a heartfelt conversation here,” Ryan says, but laughs, flopping back against his own pillow as Ray reaches for his DS again.

 

* * *

 

With that in mind, the five of them agree to try and gauge what Gavin’s thinking, if this is something that he wants too. And when Gavin’s around them, not pretending, all guards down, it’s not hard to tell that he likes them.

Ryan watches him. Curled up on the couch with Geoff, playing video games - as comfortable and at ease as if he was in his own home. How well he fits into Geoff’s arms, how he leans into his touch, how when he turns and sees Geoff smiling fondly at him he just grins back.

In planning with Jack, the two of them working late - both exhausted but how readily they seem to understand each other, to communicate almost without speaking as they finish up their planning, working together with a seamless fluidity. How Gavin reaches out when they’re done and squeezes Jack’s shoulder and Jack smiles at him and pats him on the back.

Up on a roof with Ray, the other man waiting for a target - Gavin lounging on a sunchair next to him. His hair’s bright blonde again, gleaming in the sun like spun gold, those ridiculous sunglasses perched on his nose as usual, his shirt unbuttoned just a bit too far. Ray keeps glancing over at him, unusually distracted even if Gavin’s not even pestering him with silly conversations. Just lying there, half-dozing off.

“Focus,” Ryan whispers - he’s sitting nearby, waiting with them - Ray’s gaze snaps guiltily away from Gavin and he turns back to his rifle, but not before Gavin notices and sits up a bit, lifting his sunglasses to look at them, giving a small grin before lying back down. Ryan watches him carefully; can’t tell if he knows why Ray was staring or not.

And there’s Michael, of course. Michael who’s never been that touchy but seems to spend half his time wrestling with Gavin by Geoff’s pool, or grabbing his wrist to pull him somewhere, or letting Gavin jump into his arms and then carrying him around. They’ll go out drinking together and come back to the base flushed and giggly, and Ryan’s never seen Gavin laugh as much as when he’s around the other man.

It’s different to the way he sees Gavin with Burnie, or Gus, or Barbara, or even Dan when he comes over for a week. Those are friends, and he’s obviously close to them, but with the five of them - he looks a little longer, leans into their touch too much, gets shy and flustered occasionally. And most telling of all, _lets_ them see him get shy and flustered. He could cover it if he wanted to. Ryan’s seen him lie.

So they’re hopeful - but it’s with Ryan that things finally progress. They’re out on a job together. Gavin’s himself for once, or some version of it - the version he has when he’s not in disguise. Ramsey’s Gavin, the FAHC’s golden prince. Not quite himself, but the version that he puts on the way Ryan puts on his mask, or Michael plays the tough explosives guy, or Ray the expressionless sniper.

They’re meant to be making a deal, but it goes sideways and they end up in a firefight and at some point Ryan’s not paying attention - there’s a lot of guys - he thinks he’s taken down the last one and starts to lower his gun, but the next thing he knows Gavin’s slamming into his side with enough force to actually knock him over.

Ryan hits the ground at a weird angle; he catches himself awkwardly on his wrist and swears as pain shoots through his arm. Gavin lands heavily on top of him and it’s only when gunfire rings out that Ryan realises there’s another man behind him.

“Shit,” he hisses, but Gavin’s already sitting up, raising his gun and firing back. Ryan twists his head in time to see the man jerk as five bullets hit him square in the chest. He crumples to the ground and Gavin lowers his gun. He’s breathing heavily and in the silence that follows Ryan realises his own heart is pounding, adrenaline shooting through his system, nearly making him feel dizzy. It’s only now hitting him what a close call that was, and the shock of almost-dying has him reeling.

“You’re scary,” he manages finally - Gavin turns to him and huffs out a laugh. He’s bleeding, a graze on his arm that has his sleeve stained red, but he seems unharmed as he sits back, shifting his weight off Ryan a bit.

“Sorry about body-slamming you into the ground,” he says, and Ryan grins.

“You saved my life. That cancels it out. Thanks, by the way.”

“Are you okay?” Gavin asks. “Your arm-”

“Think I sprained my wrist.” Ryan rotates it gingerly and grimaces; it hurts. “I’ll live.”

Gavin nods, but his eyes are wide and he keeps glancing back at the man he took down. And maybe it’s the shock of how close a call this was, or how Gavin’s still straddling him, one hand resting on Ryan’s chest, but the next thing Ryan knows he’s reaching up, one hand cupping Gavin’s face gently, thumb stroking across his cheek. Gavin goes completely tense, jerking his gaze back to Ryan, his eyes wide.

“Ryan,” he says quietly - his hand gripping Ryan’s shirt a little tighter - Ryan’s hand slips around to the back of his neck and Gavin swallows hard and for a moment, as Ryan sits up, leaning closer to him, he stays still - but the second they get close enough to feel each other’s breath he shies back and scrambles off Ryan, stumbling away.

“We… we should get back,” he blurts out, and Ryan nods, his heart sinking.

_What the fuck were you doing,_ he thinks, furiously - _making a move on him out of nowhere, didn’t even ask the others first - shit, you’ve scared him off now - shit, he didn’t want that - maybe he doesn’t want this - you’ve fucked it all up now, you idiot_.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, and heaves himself to his feet, wincing a bit when he accidentally puts pressure on his injured wrist. He cradles it close to him and Gavin shoots him a sidelong glance, looking a bit upset, but doesn’t comment. They drive back to the base in silence.

Gavin doesn't go back to his flat, but he also doesn’t come and hang out with the rest of them. Just retreats off to his own bedroom, and there’s such an awkwardness hanging over them that Ryan has to tell the others what happened.

“Everything’s ruined,” Geoff wails dramatically; Ryan stares at him for a moment before he realises the other man’s being sarcastic. “For real though, Ryan, I’m pretty sure he’s interested in us. Just because he didn’t want to kiss you out of the blue doesn’t mean we misjudged everything.”

“We can’t just assume that we didn’t misjudge everything either,” Michael cuts in, and Jack nods.

“Like I told you before, Ryan,” he says gently, “We can’t just leave so much unsaid and assume that Gavin’s on the same page as us. We gotta lay out really clearly for him what’s going on here. Remember, from his perspective we’re all together and he’s on the outside. Of course he’s not gonna be certain. Of course he’s gonna be careful. Especially if you made a move on him without explaining first what we’ve all been discussing together. But I think someone needs to go to him right now and tell him, gently, what we want, and why Ryan did that, and let him know he has time to think about it. Just make sure he’s not confused about what’s happening here.”

“I’ll do it,” Ray says suddenly, getting up, but Ryan’s stepping forward before he can even really think about it.

“No, I… I fucked this up, I should be the one to explain. Otherwise he’ll avoid me.”

Ray glances up at him and then nods, smiling reassuringly as he reaches out to press Ryan’s arm. Geoff looks pleased, for whatever reason, and the knowledge that the other four are all waiting here, ready to back him up, lends Ryan courage as he leaves the bedroom and heads down the hall to Gavin’s room at the base.

He didn’t think it would happen like this. Expressing their interest, asking Gavin to join them - just him on his own, having to awkwardly reassure the other man after messing things up - but this is how it is, and he takes a deep breath and knocks on Gavin’s door.

“Gav?” he calls out softly.

It takes a long moment for the other man to answer. When he does his voice is quiet, but clear, like he’s pressed right up on the other side of the door.

“Ryan?”

“Can I come in? We need to talk.”

“I don’t know that that’s such a good idea.”

Ryan swallows, hard. “I think not talking about it isn’t such a great idea either. I have some things to tell you. Please let me in?”

He hears Gavin take a deep breath and let it out slow. Then the door opens, and Gavin’s peering out at him - he’s cleaned himself up now, bandaged his arm. Looks more like himself with his hair all flat and wearing an old t-shirt and jeans. He avoids meeting Ryan’s eyes as he ushers him in; Ryan sits down on the edge of the bed and after a moment Gavin sits next to him. The room’s quite bare of personal belongings, despite how much time Gavin spends here. What it is cluttered with are clothes - so many different styles, colours - glasses and jewellery on the dresser, cans of hair spray and bottles of dye, like he’s walked into the costume department of a theatre. He wonders how much of it is Gavin’s own stuff and how much are just disguises.

“Where are the others?” Gavin asks after a moment. “Do they know you’re in here?”

“Yes,” Ryan says, “They do.”

“Oh,” Gavin says, and looks away, but he sounds less afraid and more hopeful, and when Ryan reaches out and gently touches his arm, he doesn’t pull away.

“Hey. I’m sorry about before. I shouldn’t have made a move on you out of the blue. But I need to tell you now, just so everything’s clear - that _was_ a move. And the others are fine with it. It’s something we’ve… talked about.”

Gavin swallows. Takes a moment to process it.

“I thought that might be the case,” he admits. “But I didn’t want to make things awkward by assuming.”

“You’re not assuming,” Ryan says, and squeezes his arm a bit. “You’re right. We want you to join us.”

Gavin swallows hard. He shifts away, across the bed, and Ryan lets go of him - but he just grabs a glass of water from his bedside table and starts drinking, and drinking, until it’s empty. And then gets up and goes into his little bathroom and fills it again and drinks some more. Ryan waits patiently, assuming he needs space to think and doesn’t want to just sit there in awkward silence, but that of course leaves _Ryan_ sitting there awkwardly until finally he blurts out, rather senselessly, “It’s good to stay hydrated.”

Gavin laughs so hard that he nearly chokes, and Ryan can’t help but grin a bit.

“I’ve spilt it all over me now, you pleb,” he complains, and Ryan turns towards the bathroom just in time to see him pulling his wet shirt off. He swallows hard, glancing away, but Gavin’s already tugging a new one on from the heaps of clothes strewn around and coming back over to the bed. He’s smiling, seeming glad Ryan broke the ice, but it fades when he sits back down and stares at the other man for a long moment.

“I don’t think,” he says haltingly, “You guys know what you’re getting into with this.”

Ryan blinks a few times.

“We do,” he replies. “We like you, Gavin-”

“Which me?” Gavin cuts in, voice strained and tight. Ryan stares at him, confused and then a little shocked, but Gavin turns away then, staring straight ahead, and lets out a hysterical sort of laugh. And then grins, wide but humourless, and says again, “I can be whoever you want.”

There’s something almost mocking in it, and it makes something ache deep in Ryan’s chest. He reaches out and grabs Gavin’s shoulder, tugging him back around to face him. Shakes him, gently, until the false smile falls from his face.

“We want you,” he says softly. “ _I_ want you. Just you.”

Gavin scoffs.

“Sometimes I forget who that is any more,” he says, and there’s something odd in it. Because Ryan understands, but suddenly he thinks there might be something more, something he’s not quite getting - but Gavin turns away then and covers his face and he’s breathing too fast, and Ryan doesn’t know what to do.

“You’re serious?” Gavin asks, and his voice is shaking so badly that Ryan freezes, unsure, because Gavin’s _upset_ and he wants to fix this and doesn’t know how-

“Of course we’re serious,” he says, and tries to touch Gavin’s shoulder. Gavin jerks away and starts laughing, too hard, too hysterical.

“All of you,” he replies, “You don’t… you don’t understand, you don’t _know me_ -”

“We _do_ -”

“You _don’t,_ Ryan, you shouldn’t… you shouldn’t be doing this. What the five of you have, it’s good, it’s really, really _good_ and you…. you shouldn’t risk it, you don’t know what you’re getting into-” He raises a hand when Ryan opens his mouth, silencing him - stops laughing and stares at him then, eyes dark and distressed, now - “You know what I am. Liar. Chameleon. Skeleton key. Who would ever want to be with me?”

His voice cracks a little and Ryan feels like his heart is breaking; for all his talk of lies and disguises there’s raw pain and uncertainty in Gavin’s face now and Ryan wants nothing more than to pull him close, reassure him, to somehow make him see just how wrong - just how much _more_ than that he is.

“No, Gavin, no,” he murmurs - he reaches for him again, grabs his hands and folds them in his. “I know who you are. You’re not just some… some dress up doll, or whatever it is you’re thinking. I can tell you exactly why we want to be with you.”

Gavin’s lips are pressed together and Ryan can feel his hands trembling, but he shifts even closer to him and continues, earnestly, “There are so many things we love about you. How you always manage to make us laugh - no matter how badly things are going you can make every one of us smile so easily. And it’s reassuring how cheerful you always are - I don’t think I’ve ever seen you properly angry. We love how curious you are - how creative - with your heist plans but also just those stupid questions you always ask, just… the things you come up with.”

He shakes his head fondly and Gavin lets out a tentative laugh.

“You’re easy to talk to. You’re just fun to be around. And how hard you work, how you put your all into every job… it’s not about how good you look in a suit, or what accent you can put on. We know what you are under that. We’ve seen it, working with you, living with you the last few months. And that’s what we want. Just you. Just _Gavin_.”

Gavin’s smiling, sitting staring down at their hands, something still hesitant in it. But when Ryan lets go of him and moves forward to pull him close, he lets him, relaxing into Ryan’s arms, hugging him back tightly and burying his face in the crook of Ryan’s neck. They sit there for a long moment, as Gavin’s breathing slows and calms and Ryan feels himself settle into something more peaceful too. He feels more confident when they pull apart, keeping one hand resting on Gavin’s shoulder.

“I guess this is me officially asking you if you want to join us,” he says. “I always thought we’d do it as a group but we didn’t want to overwhelm you. But if you don’t want this, Gavin, I’ll tell the others and we’ll never bring it up again. It won’t affect work.”

Gavin swallows hard, but Ryan can see that he’s calmer now, that he’s thinking about it.

“I want it,” he says quietly after a moment. “But are you sure you want me?”

“We’re sure,” Ryan says. “I wouldn’t be here now if we weren’t.”

Gavin bites his lip. Ryan can practically see him struggling, some internal fight raging in him.

“I shouldn’t do this,” he chokes out finally. “I really, really shouldn’t…”

“If you don’t want to-”

“I want to, that’s the problem.” Gavin’s shaking his head now, and Ryan isn’t sure quite what’s going on, but a moment later Gavin looks up at him and offers, “I’m messed up, it’s… it’s not fair to you-”

“Don’t say what is or isn’t fair to us,” Ryan cuts in. “We all have issues, Gavin, I… God knows I’ve had my moments where I don’t know who the fuck I am or what I’m doing, but the others… it helps, and we want you to be a part of that too. No matter how hard it gets, we do things _together_ \- you’re worth that, you’re worth everything.”

Gavin smiles again, small and genuine.

“That’s sweet, Ryan,” he murmurs, and Ryan presses his hand.

“You don’t have to decide right now,” he says, but Gavin looks up at him now, something determined and, oddly, almost rebellious in it.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks suddenly, and Ryan blinks a few times, taken aback-

“Of course,” he replies, and Gavin moves in slowly. There’s something careful, tentative in it, the gentle brush of his lips, his hand cautious where it comes to cup the back of Ryan’s head. Ryan’s careful at first, trying not to move too fast - but after a moment he feels Gavin relax and then start to smile, and the nervous pounding of his heart shifts to something lighter, more excited. He rests his hands on Gavin’s waist and deepens the kiss - likes the little pleased noise Gavin makes in response, and how easily he lets Ryan take control, something trusting in it.

By the time they pull apart Gavin is smiling and Ryan’s glad; he didn’t want this first time to be an uncertain thing, an unhappy thing, but despite how worked up he was before Gavin seems quite calm now, even though he’s breathing a little heavily and has one arm on Ryan’s for support. It’s grounding, Ryan knows, finally letting yourself trust someone.

“You good?” he asks, and Gavin glances up and nods a bit, grinning. His face is flushed and he looks nervous, but happy.

“Can I see the others?” he asks suddenly. “I think we should talk about this as a group.”

“If that’s what you want,” Ryan replies, and Gavin nods.

“I think so.”

“Okay then.” Ryan takes his hand and pulls him up off the bed; Gavin doesn’t pull away, just laces their fingers together and sticks close by his side as they leave the room. But even if they’re gonna be careful, and take this slowly, Ryan’s nerves have disappeared. He’s quite certain, now, that they’re better together - that Gavin can see that - that things will work out somehow, and they walk together to join the others.


	3. Chapter 3

Ryan wakes up to the shrilling of the alarm on his phone. Despite how noisy it is, he stirs from sleep slowly, groggily, his mind thick and clouded from finally sleeping after so long on three hours or less each night. He doesn’t remember if he dreamed - feels vaguely sick, his muscles aching and heavy - wants nothing more than to just lie down and let himself pass out again.

But he forces himself to reach out and turn the alarm off and then sit up, getting his bearings. It’s so early, and the weather so bad outside, that the room is still quite dark, and for a moment he sits there breathing heavily, taking in the hard mattress under him and the faintly sour smell of the moth-eaten pillows-

And _Gavin_. It returns to him, almost subconsciously, that he’s here with the other man, and he gropes about with one hand, expecting him to be in the bed next to him-

Only for his mind to clear and for him to remember, with a sudden sinking feeling, exactly why they’re here. Why Gavin isn’t in the bed with him. Why the prospect of the hours to spend on the road ahead aren’t undercut with that usual sweetness of at least getting to spend some quiet alone time with one of his boyfriends.

_Boyfriend_. He remembers again, then, that he apparently never had Gavin at all. That he’s been lying since he first joined the crew. That whatever’s going on here, there’s a hell of a lot he doesn’t know about someone he thought he was close to.

_Shit,_ he thinks, and runs a hand tiredly over his face before reaching out to switch on the light and rolling out of bed.

Gavin’s lying on the couch. He must be awake after that alarm, but he doesn’t move, not until Ryan comes and stands right next to him.

“Get up,” he orders. His voice is hoarse from sleep and comes out gruffer than he intended - Gavin slowly opens his eyes and awkwardly pushes himself upright, his hands still tied. “We’re going to get moving soon.”

Gavin blinks sleepily at him. His eyes are very red and Ryan can only assume that he didn’t sleep all that well last night. He stares silently at Ryan, who stares back at him. Everything feels  a bit surreal, now that it’s the next day, and so early in the morning, and they’re standing here in the dark motel room. He turns away and marches into the bathroom to clean himself up.

He looks even worse today, the bruise in the middle of his face so dark that it’s nearly black. His throat hurts from breathing through his mouth while he slept - his nose still feels stuffy, sore - and with his beard growing out and dark shadows under his eyes he looks gaunt, grizzled. Rough. He decides not to shave, instead methodically washing up before pulling his hair back into a ponytail and scowling at himself in the mirror for a long moment before shaking his head and heading back out.

Gavin is sitting where he left him, looking a bit more awake now.

“You can have fifteen minutes in there,” Ryan tells him, crouching in front of him and reaching for the ropes. “Shower, wash up, whatever you need to do. Door stays open. Don’t try anything.”

“Beware me attacking you with the soap, or a handful of wet toilet paper,” Gavin mutters - the effort at a joke is weak, and Ryan doesn’t laugh.

“No razors in there,” he says, and Gavin’s attempt at a smile fades. “If I hear you break the mirror I’ll come in.”

“Understood,” Gavin says, and holds his wrists out. Ryan unties him only to pause, gripping the other man’s arm and turning it over. He tied him tightly last night, but it should have been fine if Gavin didn’t move around too much. Now there are deep red welts around his wrists, bleeding in places, the ropes cutting in in a way that he knows would only happen if Gavin was pulling hard at the knots, hard enough to make them tighten.

Gavin’s looking away and Ryan lets his arm drop, not commenting on whatever attempt to get free he might’ve made in the night.

“Fifteen minutes,” he repeats, and Gavin heads off into the bathroom. Ryan turns away, moving to pack up his belongings. Checks his phone - there are a few texts from Ray. Nothing major, just _I heard you were on the way back_ and _stay safe_ and _we need to talk later_.

He’s worried about Ray. Worried about _all_ the others, because it was hard enough when he left, with the crew in chaos and Glasgow mounting attacks at every turn and him having to rush off after Gavin, all of them confused and disoriented and _hurt_ by how suddenly things had changed.

He doesn’t know what to send back and eventually settles on a string of rose emojis, hoping it’ll at least make Ray smile. By now fifteen minutes are up and he hears the sound of the shower stop.

“Quickly,” Ryan calls out.

“I’m coming,” Gavin replies, sounding harried. He emerges moments later with his shirt off, still drying his hair. It’s all wet and slicked back when he pulls the towel away, and it makes him look thinner suddenly, gaunter and tired. When he turns to pull his shirt on Ryan gets a glimpse of the bruises on his back - they look awful today, same as his - and he has to swallow down the lump in his throat.

“The weather looks bad. It’ll slow us down,” he says. His voice sounds flat, awkward to his own ears. “So we need to avoid delays. I want to get back as quickly as possible.”

“Of course,” Gavin replies quietly. He stands there, arms hanging loosely by his sides, and Ryan realises he’s waiting for him to do what he wants with him. Gavin stiffens when he steps close but lets Ryan pull his arms in front of him before getting the rope out again.

It obviously hurts him to have the ties chafing against his already raw wrists, and Ryan hates the sick guilt that churns in his stomach. Even worse is the pitiful, kicked puppy look on Gavin’s face as he winces. Ryan grits his teeth.

“I’m not enjoying this,” he snaps - Gavin’s eyes flicker over to him, wide. “I don’t like to hurt you. I don’t like that I have to tie you up because I’m not sure if you’ll attack me or try to escape.”

Gavin swallows, but doesn’t say whatever it is that might be on his mind, and Ryan sighs.

“More than anything,” he says, something calmer in it now, “I want you to explain, to tell me something that lets me trust you again. Lets me take you back to the others not as a prisoner but as one of us coming home. Something that lets us _understand_.”

There’s a lump in his throat by the time he finishes saying it, because God, this is fucked up, and he wants to hug Gavin, to hold him close, to press kisses to his bruised face. Because he _misses him_ , God, he misses him so much, and he hates how weak it makes him feel to get upset.

Gavin looks upset too.

“I promise, Ryan, I wasn’t selling you out to Glasgow to try and hurt the crew. That’s not why I was on that list,” he says, and swallows, hesitant again, careful. “But I… I can’t tell you exactly why, not yet.”

Ryan’s staring at him and Gavin looks away again.

“You won’t like the truth,” he admits, “None of you will. I… I have been lying to you this whole time, keeping things from you, and I’m so, so sorry for that, but I can explain everything eventually. Just not right now-”

“I don’t know who you are,” Ryan cuts in, frustration rising up again. “You say that you’ve been lying, that means that _I don’t know who you are_ , Gavin, and that means I can’t _trust_ you. Especially since whatever’s going on here, it’s important enough that you didn’t tell us even when we got together. Important enough that you ended up on that list, that you punched me in the fucking face to stop me bringing you back-”

“I didn’t hit you because I wanted to escape,” Gavin says, voice breaking a little. “I never wanted to run from you, Ryan, if… if we could’ve I would have wanted to sit down, and talk, and get you to understand that I can explain everything soon, but… I hit you because you killed all those men and you grabbed me and you were _scaring_ me and you pointed a _gun_ at my head, Ryan, you… you pointed a bloody gun at me-”

He’s breathing too fast now and every protective urge Ryan has is screaming, every inch of him that’s ever loved Gavin wants nothing more than to pull him close and tell him everything’s okay, and they’ll figure this out, and everything will be fine as long as they’re together-

But that was a Gavin he knew, a Gavin he trusted, not a Gavin who has secrets and lies and who keeps promising an explanation but refusing to actually provide it, and it hurts him to look at the man in front of him and realise he doesn’t know if those desperate eyes, that break in his voice, is all just a clever act.

“I can’t tell if you’re lying or not,” he admits, and lets out a shaky breath, running his hands over his face again. He already has a headache, the awful about-to-cry sort that builds up behind your eyes, that makes him feel like he could too easily break.

Gavin looks like Ryan just slapped him. Ryan _did_ slap him, yesterday, he remembers. And pointed a gun at him, and Gavin punched him and broke his nose, and he could throw up, suddenly, but he takes a deep breath and grabs his mask from on top of his bag and pulls it on.

“I wish it wasn’t working out like this,” he says, and sighs, resigned and weary. “But here we are.”

Gavin just looks away and Ryan sighs, and grabs his bag, and heads for the door.

“We’ll eat something on the road,” he says, because with his hair clinging to his scalp and dripping wet patches onto his shirt, Gavin still looks too small, too worn down. An awkward silence settles between them again as Gavin shuffles past him, head down, and they return to the car and the road.

 

* * *

 

They drive.

It’s miserable outside; grey and drizzling, something unfriendly about the other cars on the highway speeding by with their sour-eyed drivers staring soullessly ahead. With neither of them talking Ryan falls into the rhythm of it; mindlessly shifting into autopilot, keeping the car at a steady pace, the trees and road signs and light posts flashing by past them without him even taking them in.

Gavin’s asleep again in the passenger seat, bound hands awkwardly clasped together in his lap, head lolling against the window. At first Ryan thinks he’s pretending to avoid having to look at him, but after a while the other man starts shifting and murmuring - little mumbled words that Ryan can’t make out - his brow furrowed a bit, obviously unsettled. It feels creepy watching him sleep and after a while Ryan turns his attention away and then switches on the radio, quietly, a low buzz of background noise.

After a while Gavin wakes up with a start; Ryan sees him jolt in the corner of his eye, breathing heavily - sees him take a moment to work out where he is - and sees him glance over at Ryan before turning away to rest his head against the window. He doesn’t look over at him and a glum silence settles between them again. The rain gets harder. There are fewer cars on the road around them. They still don’t speak.

It’s hard not for Ryan to keep running the situation over in his head, thinking of all the different possibilities.

_Gavin is not who we thought he was._

_Then who?_

Feeding information to Glasgow - why? _Because he worked for him, but changed his mind and was trying to get out - is that what he wanted to explain?_

_Or he’s a police plant, and Glasgow was part of his cover?_

_A bounty hunter, out to get one of us - or out to get Glasgow - nothing makes sense, no job would run that long-_

_And why would he join our relationship? To get closer to us?_ The thought sends a shock through him, something sick and septic and impossible to get rid of now he’s had it. _Oh God, that part - it couldn’t have been a lie, it couldn’t have been him trying to manipulate us to sell us out later - it couldn’t, it couldn’t, it couldn’t, I can’t believe that-_

But the problem is, he doesn’t _know_ \- how can he know _anything_ now? And part of him feels guilty, so _guilty_ for believing Gavin could be that cunning, that malicious - but the other part, the part worn weary by past betrayals, can’t help but think of how Gavin had run, and killed, and _admitted_ to lying, and worn so many masks in the time Ryan has known him that now he can’t tell what was real any more.

It leaves him in a sour mood, tense and agitated, hands clenching hard on the steering wheel - which Gavin picks up on, of course, and it seems to make him nervous as well; he leans away from Ryan, huddling up against the side of the car, head down, saying nothing. It only makes him look more like a kicked puppy, makes Ryan feel like a terrible person, has his head spinning with how much he just has no fucking idea what to do here, how to respond to this.

 

* * *

 

A few hours in they hit a rest stop. Ryan’s aching and exhausted from the time spent driving, but pushes his woes to the back of his mind the way he does on every hard job. Marches Gavin to the bathroom then back to the car before heading into the little convenience store to get them some food.

It feels surreal, walking into the shop with his mask off, grabbing snacks and bottles of water alongside other tired-eyed travellers. One of those weird in-between times where he’s on his way home, but not quite there yet, and without any of the others there to ground him he feels a bit aimless and disoriented, unsure what he’s going back to.

He takes longer than he has to and doesn’t let himself think that the reason why is that he doesn’t want to sit alone in the car with Gavin any more. But eventually he can’t stall any longer and heads back to where he’s parked. They don’t set off again, though, but sit there in the car park - Ryan needs a little break, even if it’s just to eat without having to be on the move.

Gavin looks surprised when Ryan throws three different grilled sandwiches into his lap. Then uncertain, like he’s not sure they’re for him.

“Tell me if you need more,” Ryan says gruffly, and Gavin’s face softens for a moment before he looks almost upset. He pushes it away, picking up one of the sandwiches and opening it clumsily with his bound hands.

For a few moments there’s nothing but the rustling of the plastic packaging as they both eat in silence. But then Gavin seems to take this one gesture, this little indication that Ryan still cares, as a cue to talk.

“What’s Burnie up to right now?”

His voice is quiet, tentative - Ryan looks up at him, surprised first that he spoke and then by the question. And then - when Gavin doesn’t look up at him, when he can’t read his voice or his face - immediately suspicious.

“Why do you want to know?” Ryan demands.

“Is he still on that job?” Gavin asks, then, “Does he… does he know about all this Glasgow stuff?”

Ryan hesitates. For the last few weeks Burnie’s been off in a neighbouring state, locked in important business meetings with the leaders of a couple of other big gangs, working on alliance plans. Out of contact with the rest of them, not to be disturbed.

They haven’t told him about the list. About how many fucking double agents there were in the crew.

About Gavin.

And it hits Ryan, suddenly, this isn’t just about them. Burnie’s going to have to know, and the thought of that nearly breaks him because if anyone was closer to Gavin than Geoff when they first met him, it was Burnie.

“He doesn’t know,” Ryan replies, and something passes across Gavin’s face that he can’t work out. Ryan can’t help the way something mean twists in his stomach, makes him add, snappishly, “Just another person you’ve hurt with all this.”

Gavin ignores him.

“When will he be done?” he asks instead, and Ryan frowns, unsure where this is going.

“Why do you care?” he adds again. “Unless this is something whoever you’re really working for wants to know-”

“You don’t know, Ryan,” Gavin cuts in, a little agitated now. “I… the truth, this whole thing, it’s… it’s not as bad as you might be thinking-”

“Oh, _that’s_ reassuring,” Ryan cries, “If it’s even _true_ -”

“I’ve lied to you,” Gavin says tightly, “I’ve kept things from you, but nothing I’ve done has been to _hurt_ this crew.”

“You’ve been feeding information to Glasgow. How does that not hurt us?”

“I can’t tell you,” Gavin pleads, and Ryan crumples the paper from his sandwich angrily in his fist.

“How can I trust anything you say now?” he snaps back. “You’re not telling me _anything_ , you won’t tell me _why_ you won’t tell me anything, I just… God, Gavin, I want to believe you but I _can’t_. I can’t tell if you’ll run or not if I untied you right now. I can’t tell if you’re lying. I can’t tell what you _want_. And everything you say I just… look at you and think, who am I even talking to?”

“It’s still me,” Gavin begins miserably.

“I don’t know how much is you, or how much you’ve lied about, or which parts are real, and you still won’t just fucking tell me what’s going on-”

“ _I want to_ ,” Gavin bursts out, voice high with frustration, “I bloody well want to tell you, Ryan, I want to tell you everything, but I _can’t_ , okay?” And then, when Ryan just stares at him coldly, he adds in a miserable little mumble, “Orders.”

“Right,” Ryan scoffs. “Orders from someone other than Geoff.”

Gavin presses his lips together.

“When are you gonna tell Burnie?” he asks again, and Ryan scowls.

“Why are you so fucking concerned with Burnie? You been leaking information on him too?”

Gavin just turns his face away.

“I can explain everything eventually,” he repeats, but sounds as sick of saying the words as Ryan is of hearing them.

“See, the problem is,” he says, “I’m questioning everything now.” He can’t look at Gavin as he says it, hates how his voice shakes a little with every word. “The first time… the first time I kissed you. All the things that made me fall in love with you. All the times you seemed so happy with us. The times you seemed so open and we thought, that’s it, that’s who we love. All the jobs that you took, the times you went off for weeks and we _missed you_ \- were you just off with Glasgow, then?”

Gavin’s breath hitches and he doesn’t answer.

“The one thing we always admired about you was your loyalty,” Ryan says, and hates the sick almost-pleasure it gives him to see Gavin flinch at that, “But it looks like that was a fucking lie-”

“You don’t understand anything,” Gavin repeats, and something snaps.

“You don’t trust me enough to fucking _tell me_!” Ryan shouts, and the next thing he knows, Gavin’s shouting back-

“It’s not _that_ ,” he cries, voice breaking, ragged, “I trust you, I _trust you_ , Ryan, but… but once I tell you everything changes-”

“It’s already changed,” Ryan snaps, but Gavin shakes his head furiously, face twisting in frustration.

“That’s not when I’m talking about - it’s hard to explain - once I tell you what’s going on here _everything changes with the crew_ , it’s… it’s bigger than just us, than just our relationship - and that’s why I’m not allowed to, okay? I need permission first.”

Ryan can only stare at him. He’s so confused, has no idea what Gavin’s talking about - feels like he’s got a few scattered pieces of the puzzle, not nearly enough to even tell what the big picture’s supposed to be.

“And who’s going to give you this _permission_?” he asks finally, but Gavin’s breathing heavily now and his face shutters over as he turns away.

“I said too much already,” he murmurs.

Ryan’s stomach hurts. He’s not hungry any more, and his head is pounding, and he just - doesn’t know how to deal with this. This is why he used to avoid getting close to people. They let you down, and things get complicated, and he can’t even pull away and run the way he used to because he has the others, has to be here for Ray and Jack and Geoff and Michael - he’s in too deep. So deep that it hurts.

“Right,” he snorts. “Well, when we get back, someone’s gonna make you talk eventually.”

He means the others. He means Geoff, who’s so close to Gavin, who he thought Gavin trusted the most of any of them - Geoff who’s dealt with this whole crisis so calmly so far, who can sit Gavin down and give him the time to explain with a patience that Ryan doesn’t have. Or Jack, who still loves Gavin so much, who refuses to admit that he’s against them, whose kindness might make Gavin spill. Ray, who all of them are so protective of; it might be their youngest that makes Gavin realise just how much he’s hurt them all - or Michael, Michael who loves them all so fiercely, who adores Gavin. Who he thought Gavin adored in turn.

He means the others, means how Gavin might be wary of _him_ but, if he does have any feelings for them, if _that_ part is real, will hopefully talk when he’s faced with all _five_ of the men he loves-

But he realises, when Gavin’s eyes go huge, how _someone’s gonna make you talk_ probably came off as really, really fucking threatening. And he feels nauseous, because no matter what he’s done, no matter what the truth is, actively hurting Gavin to get information out of him is a line he’s pretty sure none of them would ever even think of crossing, but from the look on Gavin’s face the other man suddenly appears very uncertain of that.

Ryan opens his mouth to explain what he meant, but before he can say anything else his phone starts vibrating, cutting him off. He pulls it out and realises it’s Michael. _Better take this_.

“I’ll be back in a second,” he says - Gavin just stares at him with wide eyes before looking away again. Ryan feels a bit bad, but gets out of the car and paces a few steps away, taking the call.

“Michael,” he says.

“Ryan.” It’s a relief just to hear the other man’s voice. Ryan suddenly misses him, with an aching sort of desperation. “You driving?”

“We stopped for a bit,” Ryan replies.

“Glasgow just attacked us again, at one of our safehouses. Guess he knew where it was from one of his double agents.” Michael’s voice is tight, upset. Ryan can tell even over the phone that he’s not happy. “I stopped him. We lost a couple men. Geoff said Gavin was with you?”

“Yeah.”

“He said you said that Glasgow sent men after him. That it means the list was right. That he’s definitely one of the agents.”

“Looks that way,” Ryan replies, tiredly, and Michael goes very silent on the other end of the line. Ryan clutches the phone a little tighter, feeling the pain of the distance between them. Wants nothing more than to be with the other man right now, pull him close, comfort him any way he knows how.

There’s not much they can do, in this situation.

“You doing okay?” he asks finally, feebly, when a few moments pass and he hears nothing but Michael’s breathing on the other end of the line.

“Not really,” Michael replies flatly. “Are you?”

“I can bring him back no problem.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Michael points out, and Ryan sighs again. His head throbs. He can’t lie - not when Michael’s voice has softened a little, concerned. God, he wants him. He wants to be back with all of them. All five - _four?_ \- of his boyfriends.

_I’m not doing okay,_ he thinks, but he can’t say it out loud, can’t let himself crumble even for a second or everything might come flooding out.

“Gavin admitted he’s been lying to us since he joined the crew,” he says instead, and hears Michael give a sharp little intake of breath. “I… he keeps saying I don’t know the whole story, but… what could possibly be so _important_ that he’d lie to us, that he won’t trust me enough to tell me even now what’s going on when he _knows_ we must be thinking the worst? What’s more important than _us_? This whole mission with Glasgow, the fact that he’s been feeding information to him - _why_? It just doesn’t make sense.”

“It doesn’t,” Michael adds quietly, and Ryan sighs.

“What’s upsetting me is knowing that this whole time maybe nothing was real,” he admits, and Michael lets out a long, slow exhale. There’s a miserable silence between them for a moment, and when Michael finally talks, his voice is tight and angry again.

“Everything burns in the end,” he says, and it’s the tone Ryan’s heard him take when one of them’s gotten badly hurt and they’re out to rain hell on whoever did it, or a job’s gone seriously wrong-

(Or when the hacker handed them that list and they realised just how many fucking people they couldn’t trust and then they saw it, _Gavin Free_ , in the middle of the page and the silence in the room felt like a funeral, and everything seemed cold, and Michael was the only one to speak for a long moment, _it can’t be, there’s a fucking mistake, she’s fucking lying to us, Geoff, it can’t be - it can’t be true, something’s happened-)_

Ryan feels like he can’t breathe.

“Not us,” he begins, but Michael chokes out a harsh sort of laugh.

“Didn’t think so, did we? What we have - _had_ \- it’s so good, Ryan, it’s… it’s the best damn thing that’s ever happened to me, the five of you - but it’s four now. It’s fucking four now because as far as I’m concerned whoever’s in that car with you killed the Gavin that we had, the Gavin that was part of _us_. Maybe it was pretend all along. Maybe this was a lie too. But whether it was real for him or not, it was real for _us_ , it became a part of what we had. And now it’s gone because of whoever the fuck it is that you’re gonna bring back to us. It’s not our Gavin. He admitted it himself.”

“I don’t know who it is,” Ryan says. He feels hollow. “He won’t tell me.”

Everything Michael’s said is exactly what he was warning Jack about - that they can’t come back from this, that Gavin’s lost to them - but somehow, hearing it from the mouth of one of the others makes it sound far more terrible than when he was saying it himself.

“That’s his problem,” Michael says darkly. “Bring him back, Ryan. Maybe when he has to look all five of us in the fucking eye he’ll change his tune and realises he owes us a hell of an explanation.”

Ryan swallows, hard.

“Take care, Michael,” he says quietly. “Take care of the others. We need each other. Look after Ray until I get back. Love you.”

Michael makes a choked little noise and Ryan squeezes his eyes shut. Thinks of the other man, sitting alone in his bedroom back at the base, phone clutched to his ear. Trying not to cry. It makes something in him ache so terribly that he barely hears the other man’s “Love you too” before he hangs up.

_God. This is fucked up, so fucked up-_

Michael does emotions to extremes; he loves them all so fiercely but when something hurts him it gets him angry. Ryan had been worried about him, but part of him had thought that maybe how close he’d been to Gavin would put him in denial, the same way Jack was - refuse to believe Gavin could do this to them, support him-

Somehow this anger is worse, even if it’s the same defence mechanism Ryan’s taking. _Prepare for the worst. Get angry, get mean, to keep yourself safe_. It’s exactly what he’s doing, but seeing it on someone else is upsetting, suddenly.

He swallows past the lump in his throat. Gets back in the car - Gavin jumps a little when the door opens, glancing up at him, and Ryan feels a sudden wave of anger at the whole situation, exhaustion making him irritable.

“Michael’s angry with you,” he says flatly, and Gavin bites his lip. When Ryan looks over at him he pauses; Gavin’s head’s down and his eyes are red and he’s breathing too slowly, too carefully, like he’s trying to keep a careful control on himself. He looks so upset that Ryan would feel sorry for him if - he reminds himself - this whole situation wasn’t his own damn fault.

He tugs his mask back on and leans in towards Gavin.

“What?” he asks, harshly. “Gonna cry about it? You once told me you never cry. Was that a lie too?”

Gavin’s shoulders are trembling. He takes a deep breath and Ryan hears how shaky it is. He laughs, humourlessly, and turns away.

“What’s even real?”

He doesn’t expect an answer but after a moment Gavin pipes up - voice thick - “A lot of things. The things that matter.”

“Are they?” Ryan demands. It comes out mocking but he can’t let himself hope.

“ _Yes_ , Ryan,” Gavin insists, and turns to him then, eyes still red but determined now, “They are, I promise, I never lied about how I felt about you guys. And this isn’t you,” he adds, “This whole thing is you trying so damn hard to be the Vagabond but I know, I _know_ this isn’t you-”

“Don’t you fucking tell me what is or isn’t me,” Ryan snaps, and angrily starts the car. The loud thrum of the engine starting makes Gavin flinch and he turns bodily away from Ryan, shoulders hunched up; Ryan’s anger is bitter and sickening but he doesn’t bother to pause and calm down. Just starts the car and takes a sharp turn back onto the highway.

 

* * *

 

They reach another town, a little regional city out in the country where the streets are quiet, the buildings spread out. It’s growing dark by now and they’re both sullen and exhausted after sitting in the car for so long. Ryan’s heading for another motor inn when he realises someone’s following them.

There’s a black car that’s come out of another road in the town - must have gotten here through a different entrance - but it’s been tailing them a while now, rather clumsily. Ryan’s on the alert, careful where he goes now. He gives no indication that he’s seen something, but Gavin’s not stupid; he notices Ryan’s on edge and twists in his seat, looking behind them - before glancing over at Ryan, eyes wide.

“Glasgow,” Ryan grunts, and Gavin nods.

“It must be.”

“He really wants you dead,” Ryan mutters, and Gavin gives a humourless little scoff.

“I know every piece of information that he’s gotten on the FAHC from his plants over the last two years,” he says, and Ryan can’t help but frown at how readily, now, the other man is admitting that he worked for Glasgow.

“You gonna tell us?” he asks, and Gavin nods.

“Yes,” he says. “I’ll tell you everything.”

“Except _why_ you know,” Ryan points out, and scowls again at how Gavin goes stiff, “Except _why_ you were working for him in the first fucking place. Except why you lied and why you ran from us. Isn’t that right?”

In the silence that follows he hears Gavin swallow hard. Ryan glances up at the rear-view mirror and sees the car still following them, the agents Glasgow’s sent to keep Gavin quiet.

“You don’t need to hurt me,” Gavin says after a moment, so quietly that Ryan’s hard pressed to hear him. “I’ll tell you everything that Glasgow’s got on you, including the stuff that I told him myself… you won’t need to force it out of me.”

His voice is quiet and flat, but Ryan knows (or thinks he knows, thinks it’s true, from all the time they’ve spent together, how close they got - unless that was a lie too-) that when he sounds like that it means he’s scared, or properly worried. And for a moment everything hurts, for a moment that fierce urge he always has to _protect_ his boys rises up again.

“No one’s gonna try force anything out of you,” he assures Gavin - but for whatever reason, that only makes the other man look upset, pressing his lips together and glancing away. Ryan swallows, and continues, “But these guys sure want you dead. I need to take them out, there’s nowhere to lose them in this fucking place.”

The car’s still following them. Ryan turns away from the main streets of the town and towards the outskirts where he can see what looks like an abandoned construction site. It’s getting darker and darker out here without street lamps to guide them, and he’s counting on the cover of night to help them lose the car that’s after them, if only for a moment.

Sure enough, as they enter the construction site, the people pursuing them fall back for a moment, and Ryan takes the chance to pull the car to a halt, grab his gun and get out. He walks around to the other side of the car and opens Gavin’s door, reaching across to undo his seat belt.

“Get out,” he says, and Gavin clambers out. He looks around - it’s cold, the smell of rain in the air, every breath they let out sending misty white fog into the air around them. Ryan pulls at his arm and Gavin follows.

“What’s your plan?” he hisses.

“They’ll look for us on foot. I’m gonna kill them.” He leads Gavin towards a mess of construction nearby - half-demolished buildings, a large drainage pipe left exposed along the ground, abandoned scaffolding - but Gavin tugs at his arm and when Ryan looks down at him, he raises his wrists.

“Untie me,” he demands, and Ryan scowls.

“No, you’re fine.”

“ _Untie me_ , Ryan,” Gavin insists - and he’s not bothering to cover his annoyance, or his _panic_ , now - “If we get separated and they find me I can’t fight them off like this-”

He breaks off as Ryan grabs him and frog marches him towards the drainage pipe. It’s a big thing, and full of dark shadows inside, and Ryan yanks Gavin inside with them. He pulls him right to the centre of the tunnel-like space, where it’s so dark they can barely see each other, and pushes him against the wall.

“Stay here,” he hisses, “Don’t move, and no one will get to you.”

Gavin’s breathing is loud, echoing through the space, and Ryan can feel his heart pounding where he’s got a hand on his chest pressing him against the wall. In the dim light he can only just see Gavin’s eyes, huge and wide, staring up at him, and he softens a little, leaning in close.

“Trust that I won’t let them get to you,” he whispers, and Gavin ducks his head, looking away. Ryan grits his teeth, but a moment later he hears the sound of a car pulling up nearby, and sees the beam of headlights in the little opening at the end of the pipe.

He pulls his gun out slowly, clicking the safety off. Gavin sucks in a breath beside him and Ryan brings his free hand up and puts it over the other man’s mouth, pushing him further against the wall, pressing close beside him, making themselves a smaller target in the dark. He hears the slam of a car door, the muffled voices of the men outside. His breathing is calm but he can feel his own heart pounding. It’s cold in here, a damp touch to the air, and under his hand and against his side he can feel Gavin trembling.

The voices move past - he thinks; it’s hard to tell with sound distorted by the pipe they’re in. But everything falls silent around them after a moment and he lowers his hand slowly.

‘ _Are they gone?_ ’ Gavin mouths, or what Ryan can see of him in the darkness.

“I think so,” he whispers back, and Gavin slumps back against the wall. Ryan puts a hand on his shoulder and Gavin blinks at him.

“Stay here,” he hisses. “I’m going to kill them. Do not fucking move. Do not make a sound. I’ll be back soon.”

“Untie me,” Gavin says again, but Ryan shakes his head and pushes until Gavin drops to sit down on the floor of the pipe.

“Stay _here_ ,” he repeats, and runs out. He pauses, but Gavin doesn’t follow, and he hears nothing - after a moment he nods, satisfied he’ll stay put, and jogs into the construction site.

The men aren’t far. Before long Ryan spots the beams of their searchlights sweeping over a little courtyard nearby, lined with half-demolished walls and piles of rubble. Three of them - one of them’s standing further away, and he can’t really see them, but he crouches back behind a wall and takes note of the other two.

_They’re not in armour. Can get them quickly if I’m careful_.

Adrenaline has washed his exhaustion away; he’s focused, clear-headed as he carefully lines up the shot and fires. One of the men drops like a stone - a clean headshot - the other whips around and Ryan emerges from behind his cover, firing several times. They hit the guy in the chest and he crumples to the ground.

The third figure is turning towards Ryan. He sees them raise an arm and quickly swings his gun towards them, already shooting - but in his rush, he can’t aim properly. He sees them drop the gun as he must hit their arm, or near it - hears it clatter to the ground, and starts walking towards them, still firing - but only moments later his own weapon clicks emptily and the man, who had been retreating, ducks back behind a pile of rubble.

_Damn it._ Still, Ryan has him pinned down, unarmed unless he’s got a second weapon hidden somewhere - he reloads and is striding towards him when out of nowhere there’s suddenly a chunk of concrete hurtling towards him and he barely dodges sideways in time to avoid getting brained by it.

It clips his shoulder and he falls sideways, pain exploding in his arm, barely managing to keep hold of his gun. He catches himself, panting, clutching his shoulder, and turns to see the concrete land heavily on the ground and crack. It’s a massive thing, twice the size of a football.

“What the fuck,” he hisses, and rotates his arm gingerly - it hurts like hell but he doesn’t think it’s dislocated - only for movement behind the rubble to have him whipping around.

The third man is rising slowly, and he’s holding another huge chunk of debris in two hands above his head. Only now that they’re closer does Ryan realise that _holy shit that is a massive guy_. He’s gotta be a good few inches over six foot, and built like a tank - his bald head gleaming a little in the dim light, his face strained from the effort of lifting something so heavy.

For a moment Ryan can only stare at him - then with a great roar the man hurls the debris at him and he barely throws himself out of the way in time. The impact of it landing next to him makes the ground tremble, makes dust and little shards of rubble rain over him - he’s dropped his gun, he realises absently, and he’s barely dragged himself to his feet then he hears another great roar and suddenly the huge man is charging towards him.

Ryan barely dodges out of the way in time. The man swings at him and he ducks - hits back with a punch of his own, but even when he hits the guy in the stomach full-force it barely makes an impact, and he can’t tell if it’s because the guy’s wearing body armour or he’s just _so fucking huge_.

Massive fists fly towards him. He ducks two swings, blocks another with his arms only to yelp, stumbling back as the impact of it hitting him makes his shoulder scream with pain again. He brings a leg up, kicks the guy back a pace only for another sweeping strike to knock him sideways to his knees again. It’s followed by a backhanded slap that knocks his mask askew and has him falling sideways - but his gun’s on the ground next to him and he manages to snatch it up and swing it around to point at the guy.

The huge man freezes - then turns and sprints off. Ryan fires after him but he’s dazed, and can’t see with his mask twisted around, and by the time he’s adjusted it and is pulling himself painfully to his feet, the guy’s gone - he hears the rev of an engine moments later and curses as he realises he’s lost him.

_At least he’s retreating_ , he thinks - but curses as he rubs his sore shoulder. He’s aching and bruised where he slammed into the ground, heart pounding - _what the fuck was that? Guy was a fucking tank, Jesus Christ_.

He takes a moment to catch his breath, stretching his shoulder again before heading back to where he left Gavin. The other men’s car is gone, confirming that big bald guy has fled - Ryan sighs, heading back to the pipe, only to freeze when he gets inside and finds it empty.

“Gavin?” he calls out, pulling his phone out and switching on the torch function. The pipe is empty, just rusted walls and mildew meeting his horrified gaze.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Could that guy have grabbed him? Surely Ryan would have heard them struggle - unless he took Gavin by surprise and knocked him out.

The fear that flashes through him at the thought of Gavin back in Glasgow’s hands is astounding; no matter what he’s done, what’s going on here, Ryan never wants to see him hurt or, God forbid, _killed-_

But a second later, a sound from outside catches his attention.

He runs back through the pipe, turning into another area of the construction site nearby just as a clang of metal and a muttered curse reach his ears - and relief slams into him at the sight of Gavin, standing by a broken rebar sticking out of the ground-

Relief, then anger.

Gavin’s hunched over the sharp metal bar, rubbing the rope around his wrists against it, obviously trying to cut it. It’s not working very well; he keeps slipping and having to catch himself against the remains of some scaffolding near the wall; it’s falling apart, metal bits and pieces clattering to the ground under his weight.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Ryan demands - Gavin jumps at the sound of his voice, spinning around, alarm flashing across his face before he turns and starts running. Ryan sprints after him, catching him easily - it’s hard to move fast with your hands tied, after all - he gets his arms around Gavin and hauls him back; his shoulder aches as he tries to hold onto Gavin as he struggles.

“Stop right now,” he snaps - Gavin twists and squirms. Manages to get free for a minute, stumbling away before Ryan grabs his arm and yanks him back towards him, catching him by the shoulders and shaking him until he falls still.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Gav,” he spits. He’s so angry he can’t think straight - angry because he was _scared_ , scared that Glasgow had taken Gavin - scared he’d lost him - and furious that even now, even when Gavin keeps saying he _doesn’t understand_ and there’s all an _explanation_ , that he’d try to run again, try to get away. “You want me to trust that you can explain, that there’s a reason, but the second I leave you for two seconds, you try to fucking _escape_?”

Gavin lets out a noise that Ryan can’t work out; a mix between angry and scared and desperate.

“You have me tied up,” he cries, and shakes his bound wrists in Ryan’s face - he’s bleeding again, Ryan notices, red tracks running down his arms, spotting the sleeves of his shirt. “You bloody left me there tied up when there are people around trying to kill me-”

He breaks off when Ryan shakes him again, roughly.

“I don’t fucking want you dead,” he snaps. “You were fine in there. I killed two of those guys. The one who’s apparently half giant got away-”

“Goliath?” Gavin murmurs. “Shit, Glasgow sent _him_ after me-”

“I didn’t untie you because I was confident you’d be fine,” Ryan says, and frowns. “And because I thought you’d run, which, look, you fucking did! You don’t trust that I’m trying to keep you alive here?”

Gavin just stares up at him. He looks defiant, which is fairly new for this situation, but Ryan’s stressed from the fight, from nearly getting his head caved in by a fucking huge chunk of concrete, from returning to think that giant asshole - _Goliath, really? Creative much -_ had taken him-

“Get back in the car,” he snaps, and keeps a tight grip on Gavin’s arm as he hauls him back to where they left the vehicle.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings:** a lot of violence, including between people who are/were in a relationship.

* * *

 

* * *

 

* * *

They all have secrets.

Now that they’re together, things come out. It’s funny, having six people. Means you have to tell everything five times. And there are different levels; some things Ryan’s fine telling Geoff, but not Michael - or Ray, but not Jack - and of course, now Gavin’s in the mix too-

But it’s never stilted, or awkward - they balance it. They know when not to push. And if anything, it helps; Ryan will tell Ray something, and when the other man takes it well it gives him the courage to tell Michael - and it’s always easier the more you do it. And slowly, slowly the walls he’s built up around himself begin to come apart, the loose threads to unravel, until it’s _Ryan_ he sees clearly in the mirror, not the Vagabond. As the others open up to him too and their whole relationship seems to deepen with it.

“I’ve killed so many people that I’ve lost count,” he tells Geoff one day. They’ve just been on a job together, a rough one - lots of blood - and are waiting for a pickup. Geoff’s drinking from the little flask he carries everywhere with him as they sit up on a roof near the helipad. Ryan’s cleaning his gun, and he’s sticky with grime and blood and suddenly itching for a cigarette when he hasn’t smoked in years.

Geoff turns to him - his bow tie’s askew and there’s a hard set to his face, the way he always gets on a serious job, but the look softens as he takes in Ryan’s words and he becomes Geoff again, not Ramsey.

“It’s over one hundred,” Ryan continues then, “For sure. Maybe even two hundred. Lately I only kill the bad ones, the ones who are against us or who have hurt people, the ones who don’t think twice about killing themselves anyway. But when I was younger… I took some jobs I’m not proud of.”

He’s not sure what he’s looking for here. Redemption. Or if he’s just trying to shock Geoff. But the other man just stares at him levelly before offering him the flask - Ryan shakes his head; he gave up drink the same time as smokes - and then shrugging and taking a swig himself.

“We’ve always tried to be fair, Burnie and the rest of us,” he says, unfazed. “ _Fair_. Not good. But not cruel for the sake of being cruel. We kill when we have to, when other criminals put us in danger, but sometimes it’s hard to know the right call to make.”

“That’s different than me literally taking bounties for a living,” Ryan begins, but Geoff reaches out and presses his arm.

“I’ve fucked up a good few times,” he says. “Killed people I shouldn’t. Made rash decisions. Taken the violent route when we could have negotiated, maybe. But since I got in with Burnie, and then Jack, and all the rest - and even _you_ , now - it’s easier to talk things out with someone else, work out together what the best thing to do is. We’ve all done things we’re not proud of, Ryan, we lie and steal - _kill_ , sure, but… there are people out there with consciences a hell of a lot blacker than us and who don’t give two fucks about it. I don’t know,” he adds then, fumbling a bit now, “I have no idea where the fuck I’m going with this, dude, but… I get it. We’re all human, aren’t we?”

“Yeah,” Ryan says quietly. _Human_ , he thinks, and he felt a weird disconnect with the word for a long time, back when he wore the mask more often than not - slept in it, sometimes, went to bed with it on and got up and had it be the first thing he saw when he looked in the mirror - but it sits easier in his mind, now. He is as human as the rest of them, blood and flesh and warmth.

Geoff smiles a bit and shifts closer to him, bumping their shoulders together.

“There’s not much you can say that would shock me, Ry,” he points out. “I looked you up before you started working with us. I knew what I was getting into.”

“Hiring me?” Ryan asks, and Geoff’s grin widens.

“And falling in love with you,” he says, and there’s something so ridiculously fond in his voice that Ryan can’t help but smile, at the sight of Geoff with his dopey grin and his blue, blue eyes and that ridiculous bowtie.

He’s tugging Geoff in before he even thinks about it. The other man tastes like whiskey, and under that Ryan can smell the faint metallic tang of blood and gunpowder, but he’s used to that, on all of them, and more focused on the warmth of the other man’s body against his, the familiar rough press of his chapped lips, the pounding of his pulse under Ryan’s fingertips as he brings a hand up to cup around Geoff’s neck. _Human_.

 

* * *

 

Now that he’s with them, suddenly Gavin’s fitting into their lives not just at the base, but outside of it too. Coming home with one or the other of them - or _them_ going over to his flat, though he seems to spend little time there.

One more person to share their secrets with. One more person to slowly, gently peel the layers away from.

It comes up in the quiet moments. Like now, as Ryan lies with Ray and Gavin on his bed in his apartment; they got off work early and came home together and here they are now, the room quiet but for their soft breaths, the setting sun sending orange light through the cracks in the blinds. Ryan’s watching Ray, lying beside him, looking beautifully dishevelled - glasses slightly crooked on his face, a bruise on his collarbone already reddening into the distinctive shape of a bite mark - and Gavin, lying next to him, his head on Ray’s shoulder. In the sinking light his bare skin seems to glow as he trails a finger across Ray’s chest.

As Ryan watches, Ray suddenly grabs Gavin’s wrist and moves his hand lower, down over his side to a long, thick white scar that traces across his ribs. Gavin stiffens, sitting up a little to get a look at what his fingers are brushing over.

“I got that when I was nineteen,” Ray says - his voice is quiet, a little nervous, and Gavin stills, glancing up at him - Ryan sits up a bit too; he’s heard this story - “New in the business and the group I was with left me for dead after a job went wrong. Closest I’ve ever come to death. After that I made a very dramatic vow to never work with anyone again and only take solo jobs.”

He huffs out a laugh, but it’s a bit strained, and Ryan stretches an arm out over the bed, fingers brushing soothingly over his shoulder; Ray glances over at him and gives a small smile.

“Joining Burnie’s syndicate was the first time in a very, very long time that I worked with someone else,” he admits. “It’s… hard to trust people. Or it used to be.”

Gavin’s frowning a little, and Ray’s watching him nervously. It took him long enough just to tell Ryan some of that; it’s funny, the bits of their past that shaped the jobs they went into, who they worked with, how they act now - they’re not dangerous secrets, not like some things are. Just… personal, not things that you’re open with.

Gavin looks up then, meeting Ray’s eyes before he leans in and plants a kiss to the other man’s stomach before declaring, solemnly, “Your old team were wankers.”

Ray barks out a laugh; relieved and genuine.

“That’s one way of putting it,” he says, and Gavin grins, fingers brushing lightly over the scar before he presses more kisses along Ray’s side before resting his head on his chest again. They settle into a comfortable silence. Ryan’s watching Ray - happy that he seems more relaxed now, taking in the fondness in his gaze and the little smile on his face as he looks down at Gavin.

After a moment Ray reaches an arm down and drags his fingers through Gavin’s hair - the other man looks up at him and grins, and Ray’s hand trails down to stroke across his cheek. The fading sunlight makes Gavin’s hair seem to shimmer almost golden, and when he’s genuinely relaxed and smiling like this there’s something about him that makes even Ryan struggle to look away.

“You’re so pretty,” Ray says, and Gavin goes red. He buries his face in Ray’s side and the other man laughs, nudging a hand around his chin and tilting his head up again. “What, do people not tell you that, like, all the time?”

“Not like this,” Gavin mumbles, looking flustered. Ryan shifts closer to them and Gavin glances over at him, biting at his lip almost nervously. “It doesn’t mean anything when people don’t _know_ you when they say it.”

Ray hums, letting his hand drop to Gavin’s shoulder instead.

“I’m glad you’re with us now,” he says, and smiles when Gavin grabs his hand and mouths kisses against his palm. Ray looks over at Ryan and reaches up to tug him closer too. “All of you, this crew - I know you guys have my back. I trust you.”

“I’m glad you joined too,” Gavin says, and shifts up on the bed to pull Ray into a proper kiss. Ryan watches them fondly, and when they break apart Gavin crawls over Ray to get to him and kiss him as well. Ray squawks as he’s forced to budge over so Gavin can move into the middle, but he’s laughing.

When they pull apart Gavin runs a hand down Ryan’s chest, frowning at the number of scars his fingers trace over.

“You must have a lot of stories,” he says, and Ryan sighs a bit.

“They’re not happy stories,” he says, and Gavin presses his lips together. He glances over at Ray - almost uncertainly - before abruptly grabbing Ray’s hand and pulling it to his own skin. Low on his abdomen, a little way in from his hipbone, there’s that familiar starburst-shaped scar that only a gunshot makes. Ryan frowns as Gavin grabs his hand too, moves it to touch the mark; he didn’t notice it earlier, too wrapped up in the excitement of their fumbling movements and Gavin’s lips and teeth, in trying to work out how they fit together with Ray in the mix as well. Ryan’s hand slides around to Gavin’s back; the exit wound’s even worse. It’s a hell of a place for a through-and-through.

“Closest _I’ve_ come to death,” Gavin says - Ray nods, understanding - Gavin huffs out a laugh then, and adds, “I don’t do honeypot jobs any more.”

It takes a moment for it to register; when it does Ryan stiffens a bit. For all his lies and disguises he’s noticed that Gavin never goes as far as to actively seduce someone for a job. That Geoff and Burnie never ask him to, even when sometimes it might be an easier way of getting what they want.

Ray touches the scar lightly - Gavin shivers; he’s holding himself up on his elbows and looks very uncertain, but when Ray’s grip shifts over to his hip he relaxes, flopping back against the pillows.

“So we can be confident that you banging us isn’t just some big undercover mission then,” Ray teases.

Gavin laughs, but Ryan notes a sudden stiffness come over his features - he puts it down to the touchy topic of conversation.

“No,” he says, and that sounds like he means it, his next laugh much more genuine as he adds, “And I guess I can be confident that at least you guys won’t bloody well shoot me when we’re in bed.”

“Well, not with that sort of gun,” Ray says immediately, and both Ryan and Gavin let out loud groans, Ryan snatching up a pillow and reaching out to swat Ray with it.

“I don’t know if that was a joke or an attempt at dirty talk,” Gavin declares, sitting up, “But either way it was the worst thing I’ve ever heard and I am going to leave!”

He starts to clamber out of the bed as the others grab at him.

“No, stay,” Ryan says, futilely snatching for his arm.

“I dunno,” Ray cuts in then, “I hate to see you leave but how I _love_ to watch you go-”

“Someone shut him up,” Gavin laughs, halfway off the bed by now; Ryan leans over and kisses Ray, effectively silencing him, and Gavin settles back at the foot of the bed, giggling, as he watches them-

 

* * *

 

It doesn’t always take a bad job, or a scar, to push them into talking. Sometimes it just feels like it’s time - like now, sitting up on one of the big hills near the state park that overlooks Achievement City. Ryan and Gavin had been out for a bike ride and they’ve paused, now, for a break as the weather cools and afternoon only just begins to settle into early evening.

“I went to university, you know?” Ryan says, out of the blue; they’d been discussing one of Gavin’s stupid, biologically inaccurate would-you-rather questions and in the pause that follows he feels the sudden urge to spill his secrets, to get closer, to share some of those little parts of himself that probably aren’t important in the big scheme of things, yet somehow matter the most.

“I had _prospects_ ,” he continues, and snorts - Gavin’s watching him quietly, with rapt attention. “You ever think of how your life could’ve gone a completely different path if you’d only done one little thing different? How you just get… pulled into shit, somehow, and next thing you know people are dead and you’re good at things like lying, and killing, instead of, I dunno, fucking analysing English literature.”

“You could combine them,” Gavin points out. “Quote Shakespeare while you go around killing people and you’ll end up with quite a reputation.”

Ryan snorts again.

“I have more than enough reputation already,” he says, and Gavin smiles a bit.

“But yeah,” he tells Ryan then, “I get that. The past seems like such a long time ago but it’s still like… our starting point, you know? And things could’ve gone so many different ways. I guess it doesn’t matter now.”

Ryan hums, and Gavin looks over at him almost shyly.

“I told you I had siblings right?” he asks.

Ryan nods, smiling faintly as he remembers that night in the bathroom, when he first felt that connection, began to consider how Gavin could be a part of this.

“Yeah,” he says, and Gavin turns to him, biting his lip a bit nervously.

“I don’t need to go into it,” he says - Ryan nods, understanding - “But there are things we should know about each other now we’re together, right? Things that like… we don’t _tell_ people, but not ‘cause they’re bad or anything. They just… don’t get brought up.”

“I know what you mean,” Ryan says - Gavin smiles at him, and he smiles back, and they shift to sit a bit closer to each other, on the warm grass of the hill, their knees brushing against each other.

Ryan takes a deep breath - Gavin glances over at him, patiently.

“I haven’t talked to my parents in years,” he says finally. “But I know my father is dead.”

Gavin squeezes his hand. Doesn’t comment, or ask more - Ryan’s grateful. It makes it easier to share.

“I’ve been pretending to be people I wasn’t since before I turned sixteen,” Gavin offers back, and Ryan smiles a bit.

“Burnie and Geoff were the first people I took my mask off in front of in… God, it had to be over five years.”

“I’ve used so many fake birthdays that I can barely remember my real one,” Gavin says. “I only still know it because Dan reminds me every year.”

“I used to shave my head,” Ryan says, and Gavin barks out a startled laugh - Ryan grins, bumping indignantly against his shoulder - “It’s better when I’m wearing the mask! I stopped when I joined the FAHC because I don’t wear it so often now.”

Gavin shakes his head, snickering. “I can’t imagine you even just with short hair now.”

Ryan reaches up and runs his ponytail through his fingers. “I gotta cut it soon.”

“No! I like it long,” Gavin protests immediately. “God knows I change my hair around enough, we don’t need everyone else doing it too.”

Ryan laughs, and Gavin leans his head against his shoulder for a minute as they settle into silence again.

“I don’t cry,” Gavin blurts out then, suddenly. “I can _pretend_ to cry very well, but actual, real crying - I haven’t in years. I used to think it meant I didn’t care about anything enough to. Now I think there’s just something wrong with me, I guess. If I pretend to cry hard enough, it feels real, anyway.”

Ryan bites his lip.

“No one should be making you cry now,” he says finally. “I’ll fight them!”

Gavin giggles and bumps himself against Ryan’s side again.

“Don’t worry, no one is,” he says, and then adds, softly, “I’m very happy.”

“Is that a secret?” Ryan asks, turning to him - Gavin stares back up at him, eyes very soft, and his smile is tentative but real.

“Not anymore,” he replies, and Ryan grins.

“Well I might as well say it too then. I’m very happy as well.” And then, when he sees the way Gavin’s eyes light up at it, “I love you.”

It’s the first time he’s properly said it to the other man - the first time any of the five of them have, as far as he’s aware - and he sees how Gavin’s eyes widen and his lips part a little, lost for words before he finally says:

“I guess that’s not a secret any more either, right?”

“Was it ever?” Ryan asks - a little nervous now, but Gavin’s grinning.

“I mean, I knew, but it’s not _confirmed_ until you hear it out loud. Rule one of information recon, Rye-bread.”

“I guess I’ve confirmed it then,” Ryan says, and then breaks off with a yelp when he suddenly finds himself with a lapful of Gavin, suddenly enough that he falls back against the soft grass.

“I love you too,” Gavin says, and Ryan’s grinning so hard that it nearly hurts - he sits up a bit and leans forward to kiss Gavin, still smiling - with the sweet smell of grass around them and the sun warm on their backs and the city spread out below them.

 

* * *

 

For all that Michael was one of the closest to Gavin before he joined them, somehow he becomes the one that Ryan tends to worry about; they all have their issues but after himself and his whole Vagabond spiel, Michael’s the most volatile of them, and after a job that Team Lads went on goes wrong it’s him who Ryan seeks out after he realises he’s not back at the base.

It’s not hard to track Michael down; he’s not actively trying to avoid them and before long Ryan finds him up on the roof of his apartment building, drinking and trying to throw the bottlecaps of his beer into a swimming pool just visible in the courtyard down below.

“You okay?” Ryan asks, sitting next to him. “Ray told me things didn’t go so well.”

“We got the job done,” Michael replies, not looking over at him as he lines up another bottlecap. “I’m fine. None of us got hurt.”

“Those bombs didn’t go off at the right time.”

“Shit happens, Ryan. We worked past it. It won’t happen again,” he adds, frustrated, and flicks the bottle cap off the edge of the roof. “I’ll be careful to check all the explosives next time-”

“Hey, it’s not your fault.” Ryan puts an arm around him and Michael doesn’t push him away, but he’s very tense still and Ryan tugs him closer against his side. “Like you said. Shit happens. We try to prepare for everything but there are some things we just can’t anticipate. Tech not working isn’t on you.”

Michael sighs, but leans his head against Ryan’s shoulder for a moment as he takes another slow sip of his beer. Ryan waits patiently, but when Michael doesn’t answer, he frowns.

“Is that all that’s wrong?” he asks carefully, because it’s not like Michael to blame himself for mistakes like this - to dwell on things that go wrong - when Michael stiffens again he knows he’s right, that something else is up here.

“I told Gavin the other day about that fire I set once that got out of control,” Michael says slowly - Ryan nods, remembering the story, one of those first events in their youth that pushed them down the path to where they were now - “The one that got people hurt.”

“No one died,” Ryan murmurs, and Michael nods, but still looks thoughtful.

“That’s the thing about explosions,” he says. “You can’t control the collateral.”

Ryan isn’t quite sure what he’s talking about, but a moment later Michael sighs again.

“Everything we do, it creates shrapnel,” he says - Ryan just watches him silently, and after a moment Michael lifts one of his empty beer bottles and motions like he’s gonna break it against the guard rail. “I smash this bottle, glass goes everywhere. When I get angry - or upset, like this - it affects you guys.”

“No one minds being here for you,” Ryan says, “That’s what this relationship’s about, what we’re here for-”

“I know, Ryan,” Michael says, “Just hear me out. When Ray goes off in his own head and insists on going out and doing hits alone and refuses to let one of us come for backup? That’s not good for him. When Geoff beats himself up when a job goes wrong - that’s not _good_ , and sure, we try to help, but sometimes when we do these things - when _I_ do these things… I dunno.”

He pauses, collecting himself - Ryan’s watching him, still not quite understanding where this came from, or where it’s going.

“Gavin lied to Ray and I the other day,” Michael says then, and Ryan stiffens - “He said he had a meeting with Burnie but then Ray found him off on his own, just hanging out in this park near our place. He said he just needed some space from the rest of us for a bit but… why didn’t he just say that? If he’d asked for space we’d’ve given it to him, he didn’t need to lie about it.”

Ryan doesn’t know what to say.

Michael sighs again. “Ray’s off helping him dye his hair now. Another undercover job coming up.”

“This is what Gavin does,” Ryan says softly - “We know who he is under it. We knew what we were getting into with this.”

“I know,” Michael says, and lets out a frustrated huff. “I can handle it, I don’t have a problem with the jobs or anything. He’s my boi, I love him. I understand and I see what he is underneath and _that’s_ who I love but I’m just… worried that he doesn’t know that we know that. Doesn’t know that if he needs space we’ll give him space, that he’s allowed to take his time with this. Just… shrapnel, you know? You let things start to fall apart, even just one person on their own and the rest of it…” He sighs, shaking his head. “He seems kinda distant sometimes. When he stays over at night sometimes he doesn’t sleep.”

Ryan hadn’t noticed that. But he knows what Michael’s trying to say - what they all think, now and then - that they’re just too damaged, that one day something’s gonna fall out of place and the rest of them will all come crashing down - it’s a worry, a lurking fear that they’ve all had at one point.

“We’re trying our best,” Ryan assures him. “We hold ourselves together. That’s all we can do. And hey, it’s working out fine so far. If something comes up, we’ll deal with it. You guys told Gavin if he needs to go off some time it’s all fine, right?”

“We did.”

“So he knows now. It was tricky for all of us at first, him even more so coming in a bit later - we’ll all be fine.” He hugs Michael closer to him and leans in to press a kiss to the top of his head. “We’ll be _fine_.”

“Right,” Michael replies, and finally relaxes as he hugs Ryan back.

 

* * *

 

Funnily enough, it’s Jack who’s the most closed off of all of them. He must have his secrets too, and Ryan’s pretty sure Geoff knows them all, but for the most part he’s such a steady, supportive presence that sometimes it’s too easy to forget that they all have their ghosts, him included.

“You always believe in us,” Gavin murmurs to Jack one night - they hadn’t seen much of him lately, as he was off in meetings with Burnie, so Gavin and Ryan snatched him away the second he got back and it’s one of those nights when they get in that horribly sappy zone of just blurting out each other everything they love about each other. _Your laugh_ and _you make me feel safe_ and _you’re the most fun to fly with on heists_.

Jack hesitates - he’s been a bit pensive all night, and Ryan isn’t sure what he talked about with Burnie. Gavin notices, and sits up a bit, looking over at him worriedly - Ryan does too.

“Sometimes it’s hard,” Jack admits, abruptly. “Acting like everything’s gonna be fine all the time. I get scared or worried too, y’know? I cover it so you guys feel fine.”

It’s a hesitant little admission, and it sort of breaks Ryan’s heart, because the last thing he wants for any of them is to feel like they have to play a role around the others, act like everything’s fine when it isn’t - for Jack to think he always has to be strong just so the rest of them feel okay - he reaches out and pulls Jack into a fierce hug and the other man clings back to him.

“I do believe in you,” Jack adds quickly. “Just - I worry, you know?”

“You’re allowed to worry,” Ryan says. “You’re allowed to doubt sometimes. Everyone does.”

Jack pulls back from him and then leans up and kisses him. He turns to Gavin - who’s hanging back now, looking almost scared, but Jack quickly pulls him into a hug too.

“It’s mostly because you’re all reckless sons of bitches,” he says, and Gavin laughs, reaching up to hug Jack back - “The one thing I do trust is that we’ll always find a way to come together in the end.”

It’s something Jack says the most of all of them, and whenever he hears it from him Ryan always believes it - that relentless _love_ Jack has for all of them, the optimism that as long as they’re together they’ll find a way to work through anything - it makes the secrets, the doubts, the little darknesses seem like nothing in the end. They’re together. They’re fine.

And when the others end up crashing into the flat, demanding to see Jack - when he sits up and laughs that laugh that can rival Geoff’s for how it instantly lifts Ryan’s mood - when they all pile into the bed together (and it’s _definitely_ not big enough for six, because Ray’s clinging to Ryan like a limpet to avoid falling off the bed and Michael is literally on top of Gavin) - when they finally just lie together, Ryan’s shoulder nudging up against Jack’s and Geoff’s legs slung over his and Michael grinning at him from the other side of the bed - then they’re peaceful, content, and God, Ryan loves them all, these five men he’s finally let in, who he trusts, who he knows trust each other in turn.

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

The next motel room is even smaller and dingier than the last. Ryan’s shoulder is screaming by the time he pulls Gavin into the room and shoves him, sending him stumbling against the couch, before he slams the door shut behind them and switches on the lights.

For a moment he stands, catching his breath, trying to calm himself down. His shoulder aches and he puts his bag down on the bed and slowly, painfully begins to take off his jacket, then his shirt, to investigate. Gavin stands silently, watching him, and Ryan doesn’t look at him.

Everything seems to be winding him up further. The harshness of the fluorescent lights in the room, and how they keep flickering every few minutes. There’s a bug trapped inside one of them and it’s continually buzzing and sending a little shadow dancing over the walls of the room. The lingering smell of damp mold and mildew. And Gavin; staring, staring, _staring_ at him and not saying anything.

“Fucking make yourself useful and pass me the first aid kit,” Ryan says, and Gavin jumps a little before hurrying over to Ryan’s bag.

Ryan finally gets his shirt off and hisses in pain as he rotates his shoulder. It’s horribly bruised, already turning dark, a little grazed in places - the rest of him is bumped and scraped where he fell against the ground, too. When he puts his fingers against the worst of the bruising and presses, it hurts like fuck but nothing seems to be broken.

“What happened?” Gavin asks quietly, fumbling with the first aid kit over on the bed. It’s hard for him to open it with his hands tied, and Ryan walks over and impatiently nudges him out of the way. He grabs a swab and cleans off the grazes, quickly, but they don’t have ice so there’s not much he can do for the bruising except rub some balm on it and hope for the best.

“That Goliath guy threw a fucking chunk of concrete at me,” he replies, as he struggles to pull his shirt back on. “Fuck, I should’ve bought ice at the petrol station.”

“It’s not too late to go out and get some,” Gavin starts, but Ryan just flaps a hand at him.

“I’ll live.” He’s still fuming from before and his temper only worsens when he tries to pack the medkit away and accidentally knocks it off the edge of the bed. Things spill everywhere, a roll of bandages tumbling away across the floor and under the bed. “Damn it!”

“I think you need to sit down,” Gavin begins.

“I need a fucking drink is what.” Ryan turns and digs under the bed for the bandages. When he turns back around Gavin’s picking up some of the other things that have fallen, and Ryan catches him starting to tuck the little pair of scissors that come for cutting bandages into his sleeve. He sees red, striding over to him. “Give me that!”

“I was just putting it away,” Gavin protests, too quickly, too loudly - a lie. He flinches back as Ryan snatches the scissors - so violently that they accidentally cut into Ryan’s own hand, and he lets out an annoyed grunt as he throws them back in the kit and then grabs a band-aid to stop the bleeding, ripping it open angrily with his teeth;  the cut isn't deep, but it’s the icing on the cake of what’s been a very shitty day.

“Fuck you, Gavin, at least do me the courtesy of not lying,” he snarls. He throws the kit back in his bag and rounds on Gavin, who’s backed up a few steps. “You were trying to escape just like you were trying to escape earlier. Where the hell were you planning on going, anyway? To your _safehouse_?”

The anger that flashes across Gavin’s own face surprises him with its intensity. It seems he’s not the only one who’s sick and tired of this.

“ _Away_ from you,” Gavin shouts back. “Until I can explain!”

“And when the fuck will _that_ be?” Ryan demands, and Gavin throws his hands up, or tries to.

“Soon! Hopefully! It depends,” he cries, and there’s a plead in it, “I need to wait for some people to get in touch with me first, for things to get sorted out but… but I promise you, I’ll come back, I’ll tell you everything as soon as I can. You need to _trust me_ , Ryan, you don’t… you don’t have to fucking drag me back to the others like I’m one of your bounties, like I’m your _enemy_ -”

“You _are_ our enemy,” Ryan yells, and Gavin’s mouth snaps shut, stricken. It burst out before he could even stop it and as he stares at Gavin, eyes wide, breathing raggedly - everything _hurting_ \- he can’t stop the rest of the words from spilling out, furious, pained. “Just _look_ at this, Gavin, look at where we are. We find out you’ve been leaking information on us to Glasgow. You kill some of the people who could’ve told us about that information. You _run away_. I _don’t_ trust you! I don’t know _who the fuck you are_ , so _yes_ , Gavin, right fucking now I _need to assume that you’re our enemy-_ ”

“It’s _me_ , Ryan,” Gavin cries, and his voice is breaking a little, but his eyes are furious, “How could you think I’d ever _hurt_ you? Could ever betray you like… like that-”

“Because I never thought you’d do _this_ ,” Ryan says, and that’s it, that’s when something snaps in him. It’s been a long day and he’s hurt, and he wants the others, and he can’t deal with this. Can’t deal with arguing with this man in front of him who’s Gavin but not-Gavin, who insists on his innocence while telling him he’s lied - before he knows it he’s screaming, “I never thought you’d be _lying to us this whole time_. Whatever’s going on here, you didn’t _tell_ us about it - I didn’t think the Gavin I knew would do that - do you even _see_ what you’ve fucking _done here_? It’s not just the crew,” and his voice wavers horribly, “It’s not just the job, it’s _us_ \- do you know what this has fucking _done_ to the others?”

Gavin looks wrecked; shaking his head, his eyes red, but Ryan’s on the attack now; he steps towards Gavin, gesturing angrily.

“Do you know how fucking upset Michael was when he called me today? Do you know how desperately Jack wants this all not to be true? To all be some big misunderstanding; well, you fucking admitted yourself that you’d been feeding Glasgow information! It _is_ true, and when we get back and he hears from _your mouth_ that you’ve been selling us out, how the fuck do you think that’ll make him feel?”

“I wasn’t selling you out,” Gavin hisses back - his fists clenching where they’re held in front of him, “It wasn’t _like that_ -”

“Then what the fuck _was_ it like?” Ryan demands, and throws his hands up, mockingly. “Oh wait, you _won’t fucking tell us!_ Jesus God damn Christ.”

He kicks the wall hard enough to chip the plaster and Gavin flinches and takes another step back. Ryan spins away, taking a moment to catch his breath; he’s trembling and can’t stop, no matter how hard he tries. In the corner of his eye he sees Gavin slump back against the wall next to the couch and then slide down to sit on the floor, pulling his knees up in front himself protectively. There’s garbage strewn around him from whoever occupied this room last that the motel owners haven’t bothered to clean up; an empty cigarette carton, a beer bottle, a crumpled coke can.

He looks pretty damn pathetic sitting down there amongst the rubbish, and when Ryan turns to him all he can see are bruised wrists and the flushed red patches on Gavin’s face from trying not to cry. His hair faded to a dull, brassy sort of colour. Tarnished gold.

So here they are now, Ryan thinks bitterly, when everything’s stripped away. Shaking and sniffly with broken voices. Himself with too much to say, Gavin with not enough. The anger festers, rises up sharp and putrid in his throat.

“And you _ran_ ,” he spits, turning back to Gavin. “You didn’t stop and explain to us when we found out. You fucking ran - do you know what that _did_ to us? Did you see Ray’s fucking face when he realised you were gone? Ray who… who you _know_ finds it so fucking hard to trust people. Ray who told you so many God damn things about himself when all this time you were keeping _so much_ back from us-”

He’s so fucking angry that he chokes on the words; Gavin’s rocking back and forth now and Ryan feels a pleased, vindictive sort of satisfaction at it, because just _thinking_ about the others, about how much they’re _hurting_ -

(How much _he’s_ hurting, too-)

It breaks him to think about it, to think about how he can’t _fix this_ , how he doesn’t know what the hell to do to make it better. To protect them.

“And Geoff?” he sneers. He feels like he’s floating outside his own body, like he’s watching someone else spit the words. “Oh, he’s holding up well now, because he fucking has to with this whole Glasgow business. Because he has to hold it together or _everything_ will fall apart. But when it sank in what you’d done? He was fucking _crying_ , Gavin, you made him-”

“Stop it,” Gavin chokes out, reaching up and gripping at his hair. “Stop, I didn’t-”

It’s too easy to want to hurt him. It’s what the Vagabond’s good at, after all.

“And Michael?” he continues, and steps closer, fists clenching at his sides. “Michael cried too. Oh, we try not to, we try to hold it together but this was what we _had_ , Gavin, the six of us and now it’s just… it’s all fucked up, can’t you _see_? But you wouldn’t fucking understand, would you. You don’t cry, isn’t that right? You just… do whatever fucking secret things you’ve been doing behind our backs, without taking a second to think about how much it’d hurt to drag _us_ into it. Why the hell did you let us fall for you - let us believe _you_ loved us, you were giving us everything the way _we_ gave you everything - if you knew all along the truth would come out eventually? Now look at us! We’ve become your fucking _collateral_ damage - did you think about that when you told us you loved us when you _knew_ you were lying-”

“ _Stop it!”_ Gavin practically screams then - he’s breathing heavily, Ryan is too - “Stop it, stop it-”

“You-” Ryan breaks off with a hiss when Gavin abruptly lashes out, one foot jerking out in front of him and kicking the discarded coke can that’s lying nearby at Ryan. It nearly hits him in the head and he ducks, hands rising defensively-

It’s instinct, more than anything, that has him surging forward and grabbing Gavin by the front of the shirt, yanking him up in one swift motion and slamming him hard against the wall. Gavin cries out in pain when his bruised back makes impact and Ryan grips his arms, fingers digging in hard.

“Fuck you,” he hisses, “Fuck you for _lying-”_

“I didn’t,” Gavin begins, but the constant _denial_ has Ryan seeing red; he shakes Gavin hard and then slams him back against the wall again - hears a pained cry wrench from his throat-

“ _Don’t even start_ ,” he roars.

The lights flicker again and the sudden, brief darkness makes his heart skip a beat. It startles him, brings him back to himself a little, and he realises that they’re both shaking and Gavin is gasping, gasping, chest heaving too-fast and he’s gone pale.

“Ryan,” he pleads, and his voice is trembling hard and he doesn’t sound angry, now. He just sounds scared. “You’re hurting me… Ryan, please, you’re hurting me, _please_ -”

Like a storm’s passed, his anger fizzles away and he suddenly registers how hard he’s pushing Gavin against the wall, how tightly his fingers are clenched around the other man’s arms. He feels dazed, suddenly, and sick at the violence. His shoulder throbs. The pain clears his head a little.

He forces his hands open and lets go of Gavin, taking a step back - Gavin just slides down the wall again. He’s not actually crying, Ryan notices absently - but if he could, he would be, because he’s sucking in ragged, shaky breaths and barely letting them out before he gasps in another one. He pulls his knees up and tugs at his bound wrists like he’d wrap his arms around himself if he could. Ryan can see reddening marks on his arms where he was holding onto him and another wave of nausea passes over him as he stumbles back, staring at his own hands.

_This isn’t me._

To be the Vagabond served him well when he set to hunting Gavin down with the single-mindedness that he reserves for important targets. When he was killing Glasgow’s men. But this is not who he should be, not here, not now, not when they’re alone, not with a man he used to love, to care for, no matter who he is now.

He looks up at Gavin and something deep in his chest aches; he looks so small, down there on the floor, face buried in his knees now, shaking. The urge rises up, overwhelming, to protect him - Ryan wants to go to him, comfort him - never wanted to hurt him.

There are things he should say, probably. _Are you alright? Are you okay? I didn’t mean to. I lost control, I’ve never wanted to actually hurt you - this isn’t who I am. This isn’t who_ we _are._

But he can’t get the words out - not after everything - and everything seems to crash down on him then. He doesn’t realise he’s crying until a sob wrenches its way out of his throat and suddenly, suddenly his shoulders are shaking hard and his throat hurts and he can’t _breathe_ and it’s all just too much. It’s all just _too much_.

Gavin looks up - Ryan can barely see him through the tears blurring his eyes. He can’t even bring himself to cover his face, to turn away - just stands, limp and hollow with his arms hanging by his sides, like it’s someone else he’s listening to making those awful choked noises.

He can taste blood, and vaguely registers that his broken nose is bleeding again. He can’t even bring himself to wipe it away. He doesn’t feel like the Vagabond, now, but he doesn’t feel much like _Ryan_ either. Just groundless, and numb, and very, very alone.

Time seems to slow, what feels like hours upon hours of his chest heaving, and little wrenching hitches forcing their way out of his throat. The endless buzzing of the insect trapped in the light. Gavin huddled, motionless, in the corner.

Finally, finally, he feels himself begin to calm. The vice around his ribcage eases; his breathing stills, the tears stop running. It’s still hard to breathe, and he walks, robot-like, to the box of tissues on the bedside table. Cleans his face up - there’s a lot of blood, and his nose feels stuffy, but he pushes it back in line again and mechanically sticks it in place with another bandage. In the ringing quiet that follows he can hear Gavin, still breathing hard, and slowly turns towards him.

The other man is still crumpled on the floor, but he’s staring up at Ryan with red-rimmed eyes. Something helpless and horrified in them.

Ryan knows how he feels.

It’s how he felt when Geoff cried - when Michael got upset - when Ray retreated away. Wanting to reach out but not wanting to make things worse because he was so angry, _so angry_ himself, and in no place to comfort them. He doesn’t even have the energy left to feel embarrassed about this little break down.

Gavin’s wrists are bleeding. His shirt is dirty and damp from the pipe and the construction site. Ryan needs to clean him up, but he can’t bring himself to look at him, not right now - they need some space - so he grabs a bottle of water and sets it on the floor. Says, “There’s food in the bag if you want some,” and retreats off into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.


	5. Chapter 5

Some time later. Ryan lies awake, in the dark room and the silence of this little country city. He’s forced to lie on one side, to keep weight off his injured shoulder. The room is too cold, his blankets too thin, and he can’t get to sleep.

There’s a strained silence in the room. He’s too-aware of Gavin, nearby, lying on the couch. He’s almost certain the other man isn’t sleeping, either.

It was bad, before. When Ryan got out of the bathroom Gavin was sitting right where he left him and they didn’t talk as he untied him. Gavin took much longer than fifteen minutes in the bathroom but Ryan didn’t bother to stop him. When he came out, Ryan bandaged his wrists up - more silence, terrible silence, and they wouldn’t meet each other’s eyes - and then Ryan tied him up again. It’d be easier for him to slip out of the ropes, now, since he’s got the bandages on underneath, but Ryan wasn’t about to tie him up without them and risk causing even more damage.

He’ll hear if Gavin tries to escape again, anyway.

The worst part is, he can’t tell what Gavin’s thinking. He can’t tell, can’t _tell_ if Gavin’s angry with him - if he still cares about him at all - if he’s planning to escape again. Where his head’s at.

He does know that he himself is starting to realise that he can’t keep going on like this. Because he feels guilty, so guilty about everything that he’s doing, yet he can’t fault the necessity of it - Gavin’s compromised the crew, and to let him go now would be to risk all the others’ lives - but at the same time, some little part deep inside Ryan that he refused to acknowledge earlier is starting to cry out just how much he needs the other man, loves him, wants him to be _okay -_ as much as he thinks it’s better to expect the worst, part of him still wants to _hope_. And that hurts.

It’s making him feel sick. It’s why he gave most of the blankets to Gavin, sleeping on the couch. It’s why he hung up on Geoff after curtly telling him their progress for today, not wanting to talk to any of the others - afraid that they’ll somehow _know_ about his breakdown, about everything that happened.

But here he is now, lying awake in the dark. Half paranoid that Gavin’s going to move, to try something - half unable to stop running over everything that happened before in his mind. How shamefully, unacceptably he lost control, let the Vagabond take over.

How bad he feels about that.

No matter how worried he is, he’s exhausted from driving all day, not to mention aching from the fight with Goliath, and after a time he starts to drift off simply from sheer exhaustion. Not properly sleeping, but slipping into little half-dozes before drifting awake again but not quite being fully aware of where he is, what’s happening-

When abruptly, a noise from outside makes him jolt awake, instantly alert.

He glances at his phone beside him and is surprised to find a few hours have passed in his daze. But he’s quite awake now, immediately tense and looking around.

He hears it again - what sounds like someone stepping up onto the deck outside their motel room. This motor inn is a slightly rundown little place and the heavy footfalls against the verandah are noisy in the quiet night, wooden floorboards creaking loudly.

It’s dark in their room, but in the faint blue light filtering in from the motel sign outside their window, he can see Gavin sitting up as well. He looks over at Ryan and for a moment they stare at each other.

“Someone’s outside,” Gavin says softly, but the words are barely out of his mouth than the wall beside Ryan’s head cracks and explodes in a shower of plaster dust.

He’s lucky. He’d just been getting out of bed and moving is the only reason he’s alive as he registers, a second too late, the dull, metallic noise of a silenced gunshot. It’s still loud, even with a suppressor - and just as loud is the simultaneous noise of the window shattering.

Ryan throws himself out of the bed and to the floor, heart racing at the narrow escape. He spins around, staring at the hole in the wall right where his head was moments earlier, before jolting into action and scrabbling for his own gun, in the bedside drawer-

Only to be forced to dive to the ground for cover behind the bed again as another gunshot rings out. He hears someone starting to kick the door down - it’s a shitty, flimsy thing and it caves in with a crash just as another man leaps through the broken window.

Too many things happen at once.

He spins around in time to see Goliath barrelling through the open door alongside another man. They make a beeline for Ryan, charging towards him as he scrambles to his feet and snatches his knife from his belt. The other guy is still clambering through the window, gun raised - but the window’s right next to the couch and Gavin’s on his feet now, too; he jumped up when everything started going to shit and is stumbling backwards now. But the man turns to him and raises his gun and _shit_ , Ryan realises, _shit, fuck, Gavin’s still tied up-_

For a moment he can’t move, watching the two of them in horror. But Gavin seems to realise quickly that there’s nowhere to run and as Ryan watches he lowers his head and dives right _towards_ the man with the gun. It’s a risky move, and Ryan’s heart nearly stops - but the guy apparently has pretty slow reflexes; even with his hands tied, when he flings his entire body weight at the man Gavin knocks him backwards, the gun firing harmlessly off at the ceiling before falling aside as the man drops it. The two of them are sprawled on the ground, a tangle of limbs - but in a fistfight Gavin’s got no chance tied up as he is, and Ryan makes a snap decision.

“Gavin!” he shouts out - when the other man’s head whips up Ryan throws the knife at him, sending it skidding low across the floor towards them. He sees Gavin stretch his arms out towards it, but the next second another gunshot is firing towards _Ryan_ and he’s distracted, diving across the bed and fumbling in the drawer for his own gun.

He’s barely got it out of the drawer than Goliath is on top of him. He grabs Ryan’s arm and forces it away from the body, Ryan’s own shot firing out the open window. Goliath has him pinned back against the bedside table now - his face is right up close to Ryan’s, so close he can feel his warmth breath, can see the sweat rolling down his bald head, face twisted into a strained, gruesome sneer.

He’s gripping the wrist of Ryan’s injured arm and his shoulder is on fire with pain from all the jumping around. When Goliath twists he yells in pain and after a moment is forced to drop the gun. He kicks out at Goliath, but the huge man dodges and then, with a roar, seizes Ryan’s shirt in his other fist and lifts him bodily off the ground like he weighs no more than a child. The next thing Ryan knows he’s being thrown clear across the room.

He slams into the wall and crumples to the floor, the wind knocked out of him. For a moment his head is spinning and he painfully pushes himself up, trying to get his bearings. He stumbles upright, coughing, and glances up in time to see Goliath charging at him again.

_Shit, okay -_ gun, he needs a gun - the other man is still standing nearby, taking aim at him, and Ryan shakes himself off and dodges Goliath’s next swipe at him. He swings a leg back around and kicks the giant in the side - it barely makes him stumble, but it distracts him enough that Ryan can dart towards the other man.

He’s slow to fire - Glasgow’s men are sloppy, it seems - and Ryan has hold of his arm in an instant, yanking it aside. The bullet shoots uselessly into the wall, another chunk of plaster cracking and crumbling away onto the bed. Ryan knocks the gun from his hand and swiftly brings a knee up to strike the man in the gut; when he doubles over Ryan seizes his head and snaps his neck around in one jerking violent motion, breaking it instantly.

He lets the body fall to the ground. He can hear Gavin, a little way away, scuffling with the other man - but before he can look over at him Goliath is charging him again, and before Ryan can duck away the massive man has seized him and shoved him back into the wall, and the next thing he knows there’s a huge fist around his throat, squeezing tightly.

For a moment, sheer panic. He can’t _breathe_ , can’t get so much as a gasp of air in, and the man’s hand is clenching around his neck so hard that it feels like it could snap any second. He struggles desperately, hands coming up to claw at Goliath’s wrists, arms - then at his face, striking out desperately, anything to get him off.

His hand smacks against Goliath’s face and he digs his thumb in towards the man’s eye - Goliath roars and suddenly Ryan’s being pulled away from the wall and then slammed against it again.

His head hits the hard plaster hard enough to make him see stars; for a moment he goes limp, dazed, before the frantic need for _air_ hits again. His chest hurts; his vision’s swimming and going black at the edges-

And then, dimly through the ringing in his ears, he hears a frantic yell and suddenly Goliath’s grip is falling away from him.

Ryan slides to the floor, gasping, coughs wrenching from his throat as finally, _finally_ he can breathe. It feels like he’s swallowed hot coals and for a moment he’s so dizzy he thinks he’s going to pass out. He fights it, clinging desperately to consciousness until finally his vision clears and he becomes aware of the shouting.

He sits up a bit - Goliath is stumbling about, bellowing in pain-

And Gavin, Gavin’s clinging to his back like a limpet. He’s got himself free, now, and has one arm hooked around Goliath’s throat and his legs wrapped around the man’s huge chest. His other hand is viciously plunging Ryan’s knife into Goliath’s shoulder and wrenching it out again - there’s a huge spray of blood over the wall above the bed, and Goliath is thrashing frantically around, moving too much for Gavin to be able to properly slit his throat.

Gavin’s a scrawny little thing at the best of times, but compared to Goliath he looks like a mouse clinging to the back of a raging bull. As Ryan watches, Goliath gives a furious jerk and Gavin loses his grip on him with his legs - the next second Goliath reaches one arm around and grabs him by the back of the shirt, flinging him across the room. Gavin hits the wall hard and drops - Goliath grabs the hilt of the knife still stuck in his shoulder and pulls it out with another shout of pain-

But Ryan’s already scrambling across the floor to the gun that the other man dropped before. He snatches it up and swings it to point at Goliath.

In the dark and with his head spinning, it’s hard to aim. But as Goliath turns to him he fires, desperately.

There are only three shots left in the gun; two of them fly wide as Goliath moves towards him but the last appears to hit him; he stumbles back, clutching his side and howling. The gun clicks emptily but Ryan’s pretty sure Goliath doesn’t hear it over his own yell of pain; the next thing he knows the man is turning and stumbling out of the motor inn, leaving a trail of blood behind him. Ryan has no idea if he’s badly injured or just grazed, but either way he seems to have been scared off now that he’s outnumbered and faced by a gun.

Ryan gropes about near the bed and grabs his own gun, with its full clip. He lurches to his feet and tries to follow, but he abruptly feels so dizzy that he falls to the ground again and can’t move for a long moment. His throat hurts, his shoulder hurts, _everything_ hurts and he can feel a splitting headache starting to develop. After a moment he realises that Goliath’s not coming back, that he’s in no state to go after him and finish him off, and resigns himself to lying on the floor and hoping that his body stops feeling like it’s on fire some time soon.

A groan from across the room makes his head snap up - but he realises that it’s Gavin, picking himself up off the floor. The other man stumbles across the room, steadying himself against the wall, before fumbling for the light switch and flicking it on.

Ryan squints, his head pounding again as the room’s suddenly plunged into flickering fluorescent brightness. He forces himself to sit up and lean back against the bed, getting his bearings.

His nose is bleeding again, and God, he’ll be lucky to get out of things without it being permanently crooked at this point. He reaches up with his good arm and swipes the blood away - his lip’s split, too, and everything tastes bitter and metallic - but when he gingerly feels across his ribs, nothing seems to be broken, just very sore.

“Are you okay?” Gavin asks, and stumbles over to him, dropping to his knees in front of him. Ryan blinks blood out of his eyes and stares up at him.

Gavin’s eye is swelling, already beginning to bruise spectacularly. He’s moving with a stiffness that Ryan knows means he’s black and blue under his clothes, especially since his back was already fucked up from earlier - there’s a shallow cut across one collarbone, red staining his shirt. But he’s not bleeding too badly, and relief floods Ryan as he realises that, thank fuck, they’ve managed to scrape through this fight as well.

“Fine,” he says - or tries too, when he opens his mouth nothing comes out but a pathetic sort of croak, and Gavin frowns and gets up again, rummaging through Ryan’s bag until he comes up with a bottle of water and returns. He goes so far as to even uncap it before handing it to Ryan, who nods gratefully at him before taking a few sips. It hurts to swallow at first, but the water’s soothing, and after a minute he heaves himself painfully to his feet to look around the room.

God, it’s a mess.

The window’s smashed, glass everywhere. There are holes in the walls, the plaster cracked around the gunshots and dust and little flecks of debris all over the bed, the carpet, the furniture. The sofa’s trashed, cushions and blankets everywhere - and blood’s spattered over the walls, the floor.

One man is sprawled next to the couch where Gavin was tussling with him. He’s covered in blood and Ryan can see where Gavin must have frantically stabbed him in the chest multiple times. The other is lying crumpled over by the bed.

Two bodies. Even with silencers, gunshots make noise, not to mention all the crashing about they’ve done being flung into walls and shit. He’s surprised the police haven’t shown up yet - in fact, the silence outside is almost ominous.

_Need to go see what’s happening_ , he thinks, but his legs feel weak and after a moment he slumps back to the floor again, still feeling oddly out of breath. _In a minute._

Gavin’s just sitting there, watching him - he’s shuffled back a little distance away.

_He saved my life_ , Ryan realises suddenly - two more minutes and Goliath would have killed him if Gavin hadn’t jumped on his back like that.

He’d hardly expected the other man to just abandon him and leave him for dead, but somehow it still has him rattled, uncertain where they stand with each other. Especially since Gavin’s darting nervous little glances at him, and Ryan’s suddenly thinking of every other near death experience they’ve ever had. How whenever he’s come close to losing Michael, or Geoff, or any of the others, the moments after the adrenaline fades when they’re finally _safe_ usually has them in each other’s arms, drawing reassurance from light touches and gentle kisses-

Yet here they sit, battered and bruised and bleeding with a good two metres between them and Gavin’s hands - free now - clenching at his sides, the room dead-silent now save for their heavy ragged breathing.

 

* * *

 

The hard part is, they fell in love in motel rooms.

They’ve been on trips like this before, even back when they weren’t together yet. Travelling between cities, whether it be to chase down a target, or set up a warehouse in the outskirts, or make a deal outside of Achievement City. Those little times spent in close-quarters with someone else was what brought Ryan so close to Ray, and Jack, Michael, and Geoff-

And Gavin.

They’d share a room even if it was just the two of them travelling - it was safer and cheaper, and Ryan has too many memories of it, of all the little times he found himself feeling closer and closer to someone he was spending so much time with.

He remembers watching Gavin standing in front of the mirror in the tiny motel bathroom, doing himself up before making a deal. The Gavin that people expect to bargain with when they’re meeting with the Fake AH Crew is lavish, flawless, with perfectly coiffed blonde hair and expensive shirts and gold glinting at his wrists and throat. It’s an act Gavin keeps up both to keep his real identity as the crew’s go-to spy safe, and to get people to underestimate him. People coming into a deal expecting him to behave a certain way can be taken by surprise if he doesn’t.

It’s always fascinating, watching Gavin do himself up for any job. Especially here, in this quiet little place by the side of the motorway. Gavin standing there in the filthy bathroom adjusting his hair, his clean shining self in stark contrast to his dingy surroundings.

“Fucking hell, dude,” Ryan says when he’s finished, “You’re wearing enough foundation to build a house on.”

“Got a black eye to cover up, Rye-bread,” Gavin replies - and while he’s attractive no matter what disguise he’s in, there’s something very fake about how flawless he looks now. Hair a uniform bottled-blonde, skin perfect given the makeup. It’s deliberate, Ryan knows. Overly garish, wealthy and showy and a bit plastic - it’s just another of the facades Gavin puts on, but it’s his least favourite for how often the other man wears it, even if he can see underneath it. He dislikes it the way he knows the others dislike it when he wears the mask, when he calls himself Vagabond, when he puts on a show of not caring about anything.

But still. When Gavin grins at him a second later - _that’s_ real. That’s his proper smile, not the little smirk that he’ll put on around other crews - that makes him seem more like himself, especially when a second later he spies a cat walking along the highway out the window and rushes over to peer out at it and tries to demand that Ryan let them stop and pick it up before it gets hit by a car or something (which, no, it’s probably _feral_ and we can’t bring a cat to the deal, are you fucking serious? It’s fine, it lives out here. It’s like fucking Warrior Cats or something).

That’s the Gavin he knows is underneath. The Gavin he’s slowly realising he’s starting to fall for.

He remembers lying awake in the dark, unable to sleep despite knowing they still have a long trip ahead of them the next day. Listening to the cars pass on the highway outside, sending flashes of blue light through the room every time particularly bright headlights go by. In the night and far from home, it’s easier to share secrets. For Gavin to tell him in hushed whispers about some of his hardest jobs, or Ryan to admit to the people he regrets killing, the people he regrets leaving alive, the teams that he joined and left behind or who left _him_ behind - something feels sacred about these liminal spaces between cities, alone here with nothing but the sound of traffic. Something that makes them both feel more open, more willing to ask questions and share answers.

He remembers the time that Geoff was there too, the three of them off on a job together. Geoff being Geoff, of course he brought drinks with him to have once their work was finished, and both he and Gavin get bevved up in the motel room. Three impromptu dance parties later (alongside a rather violent fiasco involving trying to kill a giant moth that had gotten into the room) and things somehow ended with Geoff sprawled on top of Ryan on one of the beds, lazily making out with him.

Ryan’s not been drinking, but he is pumped up from the job, from the adrenaline of infiltrating another crew’s warehouse and the thrill of blowing it up afterwards. It leaves him with no qualms about kissing Geoff back, heedless of where they are. Of letting himself slowly come back down under the gentle press of Geoff’s hands, the soft slow working of his lips, the heavy, reassuring warmth of his body.

He actually forgets about Gavin until he glances up and sees him hovering in the doorway, watching them, apparently about to slip out and head over to his own room next door (when Gavin’s along with more than one of them, _that’s_ when they go two-rooms. _For privacy_ , Michael always says, which they all know is very weak cover for _to fuck_.)

Gavin bites his lip sheepishly when he catches Ryan catching him. But for a second, Ryan sees a glint of something far too close to _wanting_ in his eyes.

It’s that same want that he sees here, now, as they sit in the motel’s office with the receptionist dead on the floor beside him, Gavin slowly patching Ryan’s wounds up. They did a sweep of the place and found that Goliath and the others had slaughtered everyone else in the building before coming to their room. It’s a depressing sight - luckily the place was nearly empty, only two other occupants and one cleaner around, but it’s still jarring to see the meaningless death of innocent bystanders.

The office had a much larger first aid kit than Ryan brought, and Gavin’s using it on him now - cleaning up Ryan’s shoulder, then the bruises and grazes from where he was thrown around, where a bit of plaster from the wall nicked him, where his head banged against the wall. He’s avoiding catching Ryan’s gaze, but when their eyes do meet, for those few brief seconds Ryan can see it. That same lingering longing that Gavin used to have before he joined their relationship. That loneliness at being the only one on the outside, looking in.

Seeing that look on his face now makes something ache inside Ryan more than any of his injuries.

So here they are.

Gavin tapes one final bandage over a scrape on Ryan’s brow and then steps back, turning to rummage in the office freezer. He comes back with a bag of ice and wraps it in a tea-towel before passing to to Ryan.

“That’ll help with the bruising,” he says, and Ryan holds it up to his neck.

“You need fixing up?” he asks. His voice is still hoarse and ragged from being choked.

Gavin shakes his head.

“Nothing I can’t deal with myself. Besides, you should rest that shoulder,” he says, and Ryan lifts his arm gingerly - it hurts to move. He watches as Gavin pulls his shirt off, wincing, before starting to clean up the shallow cut on his collarbone and then sit on the edge of the desk to start applying butterfly stitches. Part of Ryan wants to help, but he’s hesitant to get close to Gavin, to touch him after he was so rough with him before. He thinks maybe Gavin would prefer not to get near him.

Which leaves him sitting here, watching, an awkward, strained silence over the two of them. Gavin’s biting his lip and it’s not from pain; he’s purposely avoiding looking over at Ryan, and when he turns away Ryan gets a good view of his horribly bruised back. It has to hurt like hell and again he feels that fierce ache in his chest, that desire to just throw all this behind them and reach out and comfort Gavin, take care of him, tell him no one will hurt him again.

He would if he could.

But he is not like Jack, he cannot so easily forgive and forget and _trust_ again. So here they are, watching each other from the corners of their eyes.

Gavin wants to say something. He keeps half-turning his head as though to look at Ryan as he packs up the first aid kid. Opening his mouth then shutting it again, his breath hitching nervously. Ryan waits, patiently, and finally Gavin speaks up, his voice shaking a little.

“Do you know what the hardest part of an undercover job is?”

God. If Ryan was angry he might snap, gruffly, for him to shut up - that he doesn’t want to hear about all the ways that Gavin has lied to them, has let them down…

But after everything that’s happened tonight, he’s not angry. Just sad, and very tired.

“What?” he asks, softly - almost encouragingly.

Gavin swallows.

“What I do,” he says, “It’s all about connections. About getting people to genuinely think I’m who I’m pretending to be - to trust me - to believe me. Manipulating what they think and feel. The worst part is all the other people who fall for it. Remember that accounting firm I had to infiltrate? There were all these other workers there - nothing to do with the higher ups, the rotten guys - just normal people doing their everyday jobs. And some of them were so nice to me? Like they all thought I was the new boy so they were really friendly and helping me get settled in. Even in those weapons gangs there was sometimes one person or another who would be friendly, or funny… Even if I’m not directly fucking _them_ over with the job, knowing that they were kind - even if it was to someone who I was just _pretending_ to be - that’s hard.”

His fingers clench around the first aid kit as he huffs out a humourless laugh.

“That makes me feel like a real piece of shit. Makes me wonder who I actually am under this all. Because you… you put a bit of yourself into every job, into every role you play. Sometimes it’s the bad bits, the rough bits or the violent bits, but… sometimes it’s not. Sometimes it’s the good things that you mix in as part of the act and that gets confusing?”

He trails off and Ryan can’t help but stare at him. Even with his face turned away he can hear Gavin’s voice getting thick, can tell he’s starting to get upset. But Ryan has nothing to say to him - can only listen in silence, unsure what to think of all this.

“I meant it when I said all the things that mattered were real,” Gavin chokes out then, and finally turns towards him - still not meeting his eyes, just staring in the general vicinity of Ryan’s chest, and _God_ , he looks worn down and vulnerable and not like he’s lying at all, not like he’s faking it, and Ryan doesn’t know what the hell to believe. “I’ve… I’ve lied by omission, not by _directly_ pretending to be someone who I wasn’t, I just…”

He trails off, shaking his head, and when he speaks again his voice is shaking, hysterical, “I fucked up so badly, Ryan - you’re right. You’re right, I should never have joined you guys… I shouldn’t have joined if I knew you’d get hurt later on when something like _this_ happened.” He gestures at himself, at the room around him, a jerking, angry motion. “I guess I could say I didn’t mean to, but I guess it was just… _stupid_ , and selfish, and _deceitful_ of me to let you all get close to me in the first place when I… I knew I had secrets. Especially after you let me in about how it’s hard for you to trust people.”

For the first time his voice isn’t tight and restrained and careful not to let Ryan in, or even desperate and pleading. For the first time, there’s _shame_ in his tone. Shame and raw self-loathing.

“I just…” he trails off, voice cracking a little. “You were all so kind, I thought… I thought it could…. but I shouldn’t have, and now everything’s broken, _everything_ \- I hurt you all, Ray and… and Michael and _you_ \- I’ve fucked it all up for _all_ of you. And that’s not fair. And that’s on me.”

His voice properly breaks at the last word and he spins away from Ryan, taking a few steps, hands coming up to press against his eyes.

“You’re right,” he whispers. “I caused this.”

Ryan stares at him. Gavin’s shoulders are hunched up. He looks curled in and closed off and unsure of himself, the way Ryan’s seen him get when he first asked him to join their relationship, when they had their first argument - a silly, small thing between Gavin and Geoff over a job he didn’t want Gavin to take for Burnie, but it had Gavin so jittery afterwards that they’d been careful, since then, not to fight about work when they weren’t at the base. To keep business to business and home to home. But here the two have collided, in the worst way possible.

“I caused this,” Gavin repeats, talking more to himself than Ryan now - the words seem to wrench out of his throat like he has no control over them, choked desperate noises too close to sobs. He lowers his hands, stares at them. “ _I caused this_.”

It’s everything Ryan threw at him earlier, when he was so angry. But as with Michael, hearing it from someone else’s mouth - from _Gavin’s mouth_ , voice little and broken and full of the guilt that Ryan so meanly _wanted_ to hear before - it’s terrible. It makes him feel sick, even if some part of him thinks the words are true.

And it fills him with a ballooning _despair_ , suddenly. He already wasn’t hopeful. Already was trying to prepare for the worst. But now the idea that things are completely fucked, that things will never be the same again, rises up dark and dreadful in front of him. Gavin, turned away and trembling nearby, seems like some vision from the nightmares Ryan used to have. Nightmares about things falling apart, the others distant and gone, their happy ending delusional, reality grim. He’d wake from those sweating and having to reassure himself that the others were by his side - that Ray was in bed beside him, or Geoff just a phone call away.

But here he sits now, mute, every breath like daggers in his throat. Gavin standing nearby, shaking silently. Bruised ribs, bruised back, black eye. Two tragic figures.

Until he knows the truth, there is nothing he can do. He rises silently and starts to put his shirt back on, then clear his throat. Gavin doesn’t turn around, but Ryan knows he’s listening.

“We need to leave,” is all he can find the words to say.

 

* * *

 

They leave.

Goliath and the others must have killed everyone before they could alert the police, and the suppressed gunshots were quiet enough that no one’s noticed the disturbance. The place is empty and silent as they get in the car and head off again.

They don’t go far. Ryan still feels dazed from hitting his head, and he’s so sore he can barely move. There’s no way they can continue on like this. Wearing themselves down will only make it easier for Goliath to kill them if he comes back. They need to rest, and heal, and sleep, even if only for a few hours.

So they stop, only a little while later, at another motel along the highway a little distance away from the city. Ryan gets a room with two beds - he hasn’t tied Gavin up again, couldn’t bring himself to when they were both so hurt and heavy and Gavin’s silent and dull-eyed now, after everything that’s happened.

It’s been a long, long night.

By the time they’re in the motel room Ryan can already hear the morning calls of birds starting up outside. Other cars are heading out of the motor inn just as they’re pulling in. It’s an odd, in-between sort of time, and everything feels a little unreal.

He takes his time preparing himself for bed. Sets his gun at the ready, right on the bedside table. Sharpens his knife before sheathing it and keeping it at his belt; it’s not comfortable to sleep with it strapped to him, but better safe than sorry. If he pulls the blinds it’ll be hard for anyone to see through the window to shoot at them. He barricades the door with the two chests of drawers in the room. Makes it hard to escape, but also very hard for anyone to break in.

By the time he’s finally ready to sleep he looks over and sees Gavin sitting, morose, on the second bed. He’s washed up and changed into a clean shirt, but with his knees pulled up, feet resting on the edge of the bedframe, jacket hanging on his shoulders like a blanket, he looks far too small and young. His bed’s next to the window and he’s staring out; Ryan goes to close the blinds but then hesitates and, on impulse, walks over and sits next to Gavin on the bed.

They’re not close enough to touch, but he sees Gavin stiffen next to him. After a moment he turns to Ryan and starts to hold out his wrists, but Ryan shakes his head.

“It’s fine,” he rasps, his voice still weak.

He has the keycard to the door in his pocket. Gavin won’t be able to move the drawers away from the door without making a lot of noise, anyway. Enough to wake Ryan if he tries to escape. There’s no need to tie him up again, not tonight.

Gavin seems confused, but he doesn’t argue. Just leans forward and wraps his arms around his knees. He looks out the window again and Ryan follows his gaze.

The sun’s rising.

In the distance are nothing but stretching expanses of the fields that line the highway. The sky is clear for once, the rain of the last few days having dispersed overnight, and it’s slowly fading to grey. On the horizon slipping streaks of red and yellow emerge. _Blood and gold._

Ryan lets out a slow breath. He’s so exhausted he can barely think straight, but for a moment, for an odd, funnily quiet moment…

He hasn’t forgiven Gavin, but right now they’re both too sad, and too tired, and he thinks, in this moment, that they understand each other. Gavin has to know how hard this is for him. And maybe Ryan doesn’t trust him, but part of him, now, is willing to believe that the one thing he didn’t lie about was falling for them.

It doesn’t change what he did.

But from all of this, from all the pain and drama of the last twenty four hours, he’s seen that Gavin - no matter what he’s done, what his agenda is - unless he’s an even better liar than Ryan gives him credit for, is terrified out of his mind, and hurt by all that’s going on, by what he himself has done-

And is missing the others terribly. Ryan misses them too.

He wonders if they’re watching the same dawn back in Achievement City. How much sleep they’ve gotten the last few days. If they’re together, or if they’ve split apart and gone home alone. The thought makes him ache.

_We’ll be back soon. For better or worse._

“We need to sleep,” he says quietly - Gavin stirs, next to him - “I’ll set the alarm for five or six hours from now, then we’ll get back on the road.”

“Okay,” Gavin whispers. He turns away, then, crawling under the covers and curling up on his stomach to keep pressure off his back. Ryan feels another pang at the sight of him, but he shakes it off and gets up and closes the blinds, plunging the room into darkness again.

 

* * *

  
  
When he wakes up, Gavin is gone.


	6. Chapter 6

Ryan stirs awake to the blaring tune of his phone alarm. He fumbles to switch it off and then sits up, slowly letting his mind clear. The room is briskly chilly, and his head is pounding with the lurching exhaustion that comes from waking abruptly from a deep sleep that was too short. His throat hurts even more today than it did yesterday - it’s painful to swallow.

He’s so stiff when he tries to move that he takes a moment to stretch a bit. And then - almost an afterthought - looks over to check on Gavin and finds that the bed is empty, the blankets thrown back. 

Immediate alarm shoots through him, waking him up properly. He bolts out of bed and frantically runs to the bathroom - the door is open, but he switches on the light anyway. 

No Gavin.

Spinning around, he scans the room, as though Gavin’s just fucking _hiding_ somewhere. He even looks under the bed. 

No sign of him. 

“Fuck!” he hisses out - it hurts to speak but right now he’s so God damn panicked that he shouts it loud anyway - “Fuck, _fuck_!” 

The duffle bag on the end of his bed is open. He strides over and rummages through it and sure enough, the smaller, spare gun that he keeps in a hidden compartment at the bottom is gone. 

“Damn it!” he chokes out. He checks his pocket - the key card is still there, the furniture still in front of the door - but he turns around then and realises just why the room is so cold. 

The window’s open.

He hurries over, peering out. They’re on the ground floor, so the window looks out on the back lot of the motel, the highway faint in the distance. He hadn’t thought Gavin could escape through here - if he’d tried to break the glass Ryan would have heard and woken up, and it’s the sort of window that only opens halfway. Even when he pushes it all the way it can go, the space isn’t that big. 

_He_ would never be able to fit out. But Gavin’s smaller, and agile, and when Ryan reaches down and feels about on the window sill, his fingers touch something sticky and he leans forward to look. 

Blood. 

Gavin might have grazed himself to pieces squeezing through here, but squeeze through he apparently did, and Ryan pulls back and kicks the wall hard. 

“ _Shit_ ,” he cries. 

Jesus Christ. He actually fucking escaped. He actually climbed out the _fucking window_ and did a runner on Ryan. The second Ryan didn’t tie him up he took advantage of it and _left_. 

He has to be long gone by now. There isn’t a lot of blood but what there is is nearly dry by now, and the window’s been open long enough for the room to get pretty damn cold. Still - Ryan packs up immediately, filled with a cold fury, and gets out and heads around the back of the motel on foot. Gavin didn’t steal the car, after all, which means he’s either walking somewhere or has managed to hitchhike. Ryan’s not sure which is a more viable possibility. 

God, he doesn’t even know what to _think_. 

For all his talk of wanting to eventually explain - all the remorse he showed yesterday - Gavin’s still trying to _leave_ , to get as far away from the rest of them as possible, and all of it’s pointing in one damn direction: that he doesn’t want to reconcile. That he just wants to get the hell out of there and, what, never see them again? 

It makes Ryan feel sick, especially because last night his sympathy for the other man had been at its peak. Now he feels betrayed, and terribly hurt, and once again he covers it with anger as he searches the surrounding area. 

No sign of him. 

Ryan can’t continue on foot. He heads back to the car, fuming, already determined. He hunted Gavin down once before, he can do so again - the second he gets to a populated area, anywhere with security cameras, or somewhere he tries to buy something - Ryan will find him, and this time he’ll take no chances getting him back. 

He’s sitting in the car looking at maps of the surrounding area - there’s a rest stop an hour or so’s drive away, and he figures Gavin might have headed there first - when his phone rings. It’s Geoff. 

Ryan has a sudden sinking feeling as he looks at the name on the screen. 

_I’m gonna have to tell Geoff I lost him. I’m gonna have to tell Geoff that he ran_ again _, that he’s so desperate not to come home that he took the first opportunity to escape from me._  

Still. He can’t avoid the call, and he picks it up, feeling like he might throw up any second. 

“Geoff,” he begins, but before he can say anything else the other man cuts in. There’s something odd in his voice that Ryan can’t place. 

“Ryan. How far away are you?” 

“I would’ve been there by tonight,” he replies - God, they’re so _close_ \- “But Geoff, we’ve hit a setback. Gavin escaped a few hours ago, I’m about to-" 

“He _escaped_?” Geoff demands, incredulous. 

Ryan winces. “Yeah, he…. I untied him because I thought it was fine and he just climbed out the window while I was sleeping and fucking took off! I don’t know where the hell he is but I’m gonna find him again and-” 

“Hang on,” Geoff interrupts, and Ryan’s mouth snaps shut. He can hear the faint sound of someone else talking in the background on Geoff’s end, but can’t tell who it is or make out their words. After a moment Geoff replies to them, “Are you sure? But where’s he going? ….are you _sure_? Okay.”

“Geoff?” Ryan asks. 

“Ryan,” Geoff replies. He sounds confused, but determined. “Leave it. Come back on your own.” 

“ _What_?” 

“Burnie’s here,” Geoff says. “He finished his meeting last night and came home and he says he has something to tell us.”

“Burnie?” Ryan demands. He’s so fucking confused, everything seeming to happen too fast. “What the hell does he have to do with all this?” 

“Something, apparently. But he’s adamant that you should just leave Gavin and come back on your own.” 

“He knows where Gav’s going?” Ryan demands. 

“Give me that,” he hears Burnie say, and a second later the phone changes hands. It’s strange hearing the other man’s voice; Ryan hasn’t talked to him in a while and after being in his own little bubble, hunting down Gavin on his own and then travelling with just the other man for weeks now, it seems strange to be interacting with someone outside of their six. “Ryan? Look, I have some things to tell you all about what’s going on here.” 

“What the fuck do you mean, _things_? How come you’re involved in all this?” But he’s remembering, now, how Gavin started asking about Burnie. “What’s going on here?” 

“It’s better if I tell you in person, with all the others. But I can explain everything. Don’t worry about Gavin,” he adds, “He’s going to a safe house. He can take care of himself, he’ll get there fine.” 

“Safe house, what fucking _safe house_?” 

“My safe house,” Burnie replies, and Ryan’s mouth snaps shut. God, he just - what the _fuck_ is going on here? “Look, Ryan, I promise it’s fine. I promise I can explain everything. You trust me, don’t you?” 

“I don’t know who I trust any more,” Ryan grumbles. “Put Geoff back on.” 

Burnie complies, and a second later Geoff’s saying, “Ryan?” 

“Geoff.” It comes out a plea, too vulnerable. “What… what’s happening? I don’t…” 

“I don’t know, Ryan.” Geoff sounds very tired suddenly. “But I trust Burnie. I’ve known him a long time. If he says he can explain, we should hear him out. And if he says it’s fine to leave Gavin, then he knows what he’s doing… Burnie cares about him. And the fact that he wasn’t surprised to hear his name was on that list makes me think something real weird is going on here.” 

“Weird’s one way of putting it.” 

“Weird in a way that makes me hope we can work this out,” Geoff says, and Ryan sighs heavily, the adrenaline fading away to leave him nothing but worn down and confused. “Ryan? You with me?” 

“Yeah.” 

“What’s up with your voice, are you sick?”

“Long story.” Everything hurts. “So I should come back then?” 

“Yes,” Geoff says softly, and Ryan swallows hard. His throat hurts and it’s not just from the bruises. “It’ll be better if we… if we all get on the same page, if we work out what’s going on here. _Together_.” 

“Okay,” Ryan whispers, and Geoff pauses. When he speaks again his walls have dropped a little and his voice is as small and unsure as Ryan feels. 

“Come home, Ryan.”

 

* * *

 

* * *

  

* * *

 

This is where it all falls apart. 

Bork Glasgow has been a rival of theirs for a long time. His territory is right beside the Fake AH Crew’s, always pushing at the edges, but over the last few months it’s gotten worse and worse as he seems to get more powerful, taking over heaps of other small gangs’ areas and steadily growing stronger. 

He’s seemed able to anticipate their moves for a while. Just little things - knowing when and where they’re pulling a heist, and either getting there first or sabotaging it. 

Lately it’s escalated. 

Glasgow seems to know every damn thing about them - he’s been finding out which civilians are allied with Geoff - doctors, lawyers, bankers - and either bribing them to turn sides, or killing them. Mostly killing them. 

After three of their dirty cops get turned in, Geoff finally puts his foot down. He calls all the others into his office for a private meeting - everyone except Gavin, away on an undercover job that should be lasting a couple more days. 

“I think we have a mole,” Geoff announces.

Honestly, it doesn’t come as much of a surprise to anyone. Jack’s already nodding.

“Glasgow knows too much about us. He has to be getting his info from somewhere. Guess someone’s been selling us out - one of our regular hires, probably, given how much he knows.” 

It’s a grim thought, but betrayal’s part of the game in their business, and Ryan’s cynical enough not to be surprised. He _is_ annoyed, though, fists clenching at the thought of whoever it might be who’s sold out their crew - his family - his _loved ones_. Especially given how well Geoff treats his people compared to the other gang leaders in AC. 

“What’s the plan to find them?” he asks.

“The plan is already in motion,” Geoff says. “I’ve hired a hacker. Some new girl in town, I’ve heard she’s good. She’s gonna start looking into all our hires, see if any of them have been seen meeting with Glasgow, making too many calls out - tracing who worked on the jobs that he had inside knowledge of. I’d rather do this discreetly than go around all guns blazing. If Glasgow doesn’t know that we know, we might be able to get the upper hand.” 

They all nod approvingly, satisfied that whoever is behind all this, they’ll root them out or get rid of them. 

Geoff’s hacker is a tiny Chinese girl. She has an absolutely tragic haircut and glasses with thick, lime-green frames, but questionable fashion choices aside, she’s good. Really good. It takes her just over a day to get back to them, and when she does she calls them _all_ in to Geoff’s office. 

“You have an enormous problem,” she announces. 

This is, of course, rather alarming. 

“What the fuck do you mean an enormous problem?” Geoff demands. 

“You don’t just have one mole, you have…” she whips out a bit of paper, scans it quickly. “Eighteen.” 

“Eighteen?” Geoff splutters. 

“Indeed,” she says drily. “It looks like Glasgow’s been systematically planting people in your crew - or paying off existing ones - for a good three years now. He’s slowly built up what’s practically an army of double agents - and not just among your hired guns. There’s one in your IT department, a couple in your weapons gangs - he’s got people all over the place. I’ve traced every one of these down to him and they’ve all been making regular contact with him, particularly around the times of the jobs he’s sabotaged.” 

“Holy shit,” says Geoff, which is all there _is_ to say, really. 

Ray’s already exchanging a glance with Ryan; he pulls a face back. It’s harrowing to know that so many people they thought were on their side are against them, but while he’s angry, he’s not hurt the way he might once have been, because no matter who else has turned against them, there’s still the six of them. There’s still the six of them and they’ll take down whoever’s crossed them together; that’s what matters. 

“Let me see that,” Jack says, and she hands him the page. They cluster around. It’s awful, seeing that long list of names - people Ryan _recognises_. One of their main getaway drivers. A weapons dealer he laughed and joked with just last week. A regular client of theirs. 

And then his eyes fall to the middle of the page and everything stops. 

_Gavin Free._

He can tell the second the others see it too; an abrupt, breathtaking silence falls over them, like all the air has been sucked out of the room. Next to him, he feels Ray stiffen - sees Geoff’s face slacken in shock - Michael go pale- 

None of them can speak. Even Ryan can’t form the words to express what’s running through his head - _no, it can’t be, no, it can’t be-_  

Even if already, guiltily, it’s creeping up at the back of his mind - _he lies for a living, this is what he_ does _\- but no, not Gavin, not_ Gavin-

It’s Michael who finally speaks. 

“It can’t be,” he says. “There’s a fucking mistake.” 

No one replies, and Michael rounds on Geoff - furious now, his hackles rising, his voice getting that ragged edge that it always does when he goes into one of his rages.

“She’s fucking lying to us, Geoff, it can’t be - it can’t be _true_ , something’s happened-” 

“There’s no lie,” the hacker cuts in. Her voice is flat, almost bored, but when Ryan looks over at her, he can see that it’s a front. Her face is tight and worried. She must know how dangerous all five men in this room are. “I know he’s one of your inner circle but he’s also one of Glasgow’s deepest moles. I have records here of phone calls he’s made to the same number as the other double agents on this list. He’s the missing link that ties some of the other cases together. If you sum up everything I’ve got on him, I’d go so far as to say that he’s the most important person Glasgow has planted in your crew, the one who’s given him the most.” 

“No.” Geoff’s voice is flat. “I don’t care what fucking evidence you have - we _know_ Gavin. He’d never do this to us.”

“Ramsey…” she trails off, obviously hesitant to cross him.

Ryan doesn’t know what to say, what to think. He stands helplessly, waiting for Geoff to do _something_. Sort this out. Prove that she’s wrong. She _has_ to be. 

Geoff’s just staring at her now, seeming at a loss. It’s Jack who steps forward. 

“Show me?” he says.

The hacker ushers him over to the computer and explains, in a low voice, all the footage she has tracking Gavin heading out to warehouses and buildings in Glasgow’s territory between jobs. The calls. The meetings he’s had, the conversations with other people on the list. Most damning at all, a split second of grainy security camera footage of him with Glasgow him-fucking-self, a brief flash of a moment glimpsed through the window of one of Glasgow’s safe houses. 

“Fuck,” Geoff says, when she shows him that one. 

“No,” Jack says - still firm, gentle. “There has to be an explanation. We’ll talk to him, see what he has to say-” 

“It’s not _him_ ,” Michael bursts out, angrily. “Jesus fucking Christ, how can any of you even _think_ that he’d do this?" 

“No one’s saying he did,” Geoff cuts in, sounding harried. “Hell, I don’t believe it myself. I don’t think any of us do. I’m sure when we talk to him he’ll… he’ll tell us exactly what’s going on and it’ll all make perfect sense. Everything will be fine. Just - stay fucking calm, everyone.”

Ryan’s still silent, nothing to say. But he can tell Ray, next to him, is already closing off. Ryan can see him, that underlying, horrified fear that things will get worse, that somehow this will ruin everything - covered up by the mask of distant, blank boredom Ray always puts on when he gets aloof, when he starts going off and taking jobs on his own again and refusing their company. It hurts him to think about, to see on the other man’s face again, only filling him with a deeper resolve - _we’ll fix this_ \- but already a lurking fear. _What if we can’t_? 

“Where is he right now?” he speaks up, quietly. 

“Still on that undercover job,” Geoff replies, “Tailing that rich railway guy we thought might be in with Glasgow. He’s meant to be back this afternoon - he should be at the airport now; the guy’s been taking heaps of domestic flights lately so we’re trying to work out what he’s up to. See,” he adds, looking over at the hacker, “He’s working _against_ Glasgow right now. He can’t be with him.” 

“The whole point of a double agent is to pretend to be working against the people you’re actually with,” she points out, but sighs and runs a hand through her hair. “Look, I’ve done what you asked me to. Round this lot up and question them and see what you can come up with.” 

“You’re sure this is all of them?” Jack asks, and she nods. 

“As far as I can tell. I’ll keep looking, but the rest of you lot - and your B-Team - are all clean.” 

“Thank you,” Geoff says, and then adds, rather curtly, “That’ll be all.” 

She gives them an odd look. They don’t advertise their relationship and while people probably know Jack and Geoff are together, and have a vague notion that there’s something going on with the other four, their vehement insistence on Gavin’s innocence is probably coming across rather strangely. Still - she doesn’t argue, not with Ramsey, and struts out of the room leaving the rest of them in a strained silence. 

“Something’s going on here,” Geoff murmurs. “I trust Gavin but all these meetings, these calls that we didn’t know about…” 

“Gavin would never fucking do anything to hurt the crew,” Michael snaps, but his voice is shaking and there’s something barely-restrained in his words. Ryan glances over at him, concerned - Michael’s explosive at the best of times, pun not intended, and if anything goes wrong here… he’s worried for him. 

He’s worried for _all_ of them. 

“I know,” Jack assures him, and then reaches forward and draws Michael into his arms. Michael stiffens at first, but when Jack pulls him into a tight hug and then kisses the top of his head gently, he relaxes a little. “Just stay calm, alright? We’ll sort everything out. I don’t believe he’s done anything wrong. There’s gotta be an explanation for all of this. Everything’s gonna be fine - okay?” he looks up then, meeting Ryan’s eyes, and Ryan hesitates before nodding and reaching out to squeeze Ray’s shoulder. The other man glances up at him and forces a small smile. 

“Geoff?” Jack asks. 

Geoff looks almost dazed, but after a second he snaps out of it and nods. 

“Yeah, of course. Gavin would never hurt us. We’ll get this all sorted. I trust that kid with my life, there’s no way he’s a double agent. He loves us,” he adds, fiercely, “Whatever’s going on here, I’m sure he’ll be able to tell us exactly what all that shit was about.”

They all nod, but there’s a foreboding sense of _denial_ about the whole thing, to Ryan at least, no matter how much they try to ignore it. Even if Gavin’s not a mole, there’s something he hasn’t been telling them.

_But we’ll work it out,_ he insists to himself. _Secrets - we all have secrets - this whole relationship is about giving people the time and space to reveal them at their own pace._  

“But anyway,” Geoff says briskly, “He’ll be back later this afternoon. We’ll have a chat then. For now let’s get started rounding up these other moles - quietly. We don’t want Glasgow to know that we know about them yet.”

So they do. They head out in little groups - Ryan and Michael going out to the armoury to bring back one of the weaponry guys who’s on the list. Geoff takes three of their security members to have a little ‘chat’ with the client of theirs who was on the list. Ray and Jack stay back at the base, calling in Kdin, Jeremy, Matt, and the other members of their crew that they still trust and informing them of the situation, directing them to catch and bring in the other double agents. They make no mention of Gavin, keeping him out of it for now. 

After a while Ryan and the rest rejoin with Jack and Ray. They’ve got five of the double agents brought in, and the sixth is a guy who works from their main base - one of their IT people, a hacker who mostly helps Gavin set up his infiltration jobs - so Ryan goes off to deal with him, and the others trail along since the computer labs are on the way out to the garage. 

“Can’t fucking believe this guy is one of them,” Ryan grumbles as they troop off - Ray makes a halfhearted attempt to get them all to walk in slow motion like they’re some epic band of movie characters, which makes them smile, at least, to see him joking around - “He’s been with the crew longer than I have!” 

“It’s jarring,” Geoff agrees. “But fuck it, at least we’re weeding out the bad eggs now.” 

“I feel like you combined three different idioms there just then,” Jack mumbles, only for them to all come to a halt when they reach the computer lab just in time to see Caleb dragging a body bag out. “Caleb, the fuck are you doing?”

Caleb looks up. 

“Getting rid of Clive,” he replies, that being the hacker. 

“What the fuck?” Ryan demands. “I was just coming here to…” he trails off, because ‘ _arrest_ him’ sounds stupid, if deliciously ironic, but he can’t quite think of how else to say it. 

“Huh?” Caleb replies, eloquently. “He’s one of the double agents you mentioned.” 

“Yeah,” Geoff shoots back, “Which is why we were coming to bring him in for questioning! The fuck is he _dead_ for?”

“I’m so confused,” Caleb says, rather unceremoniously dropping the bag in order to scratch his head and then adjust his cap. “He’s one of the double agents, which is why Gavin came along and took him out?” 

The mention of Gavin makes them all freeze, exchanging glances. A cold hand seems to fist around Ryan’s heart, squeezing hard, a choking ache. 

“What do you mean,” Geoff says, very slowly, “Gavin took him out?” 

“I…” Caleb glances between them, looking thoroughly confused; he’s one of the few who do know about the relationship. “He came back from the job a while ago and came to check in with me where all you guys were, so I told him what was going on. And then about ten minutes ago he came back up to the foyer and said he’d taken care of Clive and that he was gonna go deal with some of the others and that I should go get rid of the body.” 

“What the fuck,” Geoff says. 

“I assumed he’d checked in with you and that killing them was what we were _doing_ ,” Caleb says. And then adds, a touch awkwardly, “…is it not what we're doing?” 

“He never fucking checked in with us,” Geoff says, and there’s a note of worry in his voice that Ryan doesn’t like. The rest of them have gone still and silent. 

“Maybe… maybe he assumed we were killing them all and Clive was close by so he went to go deal with it?” Michael pipes up.

“He would have called me first,” Geoff says, then shakes himself. “Well, if he’s back, let’s go talk to him. Caleb, do you know where he’s going next?” 

“Well, Ashford and Leung over at the other garage are the closest two on the list, but if you say Gavin didn’t call you, then I don’t know how he’d know that,” Caleb points out. “I never told him who the double agents were, just that there were a bunch of them. I assumed he knew about Clive because you’d told him.” 

Ryan sees Geoff exchange a glance with Jack. He knows them well enough by now to tell that they’re both very, very worried - that Geoff’s looking to Jack not for guidance but reassurance, and that Jack feels helpless, doesn’t know what to tell him. 

“Well, let’s go see if he’s there,” Geoff says finally. 

Even Michael has nothing to say now. 

The garage where they get their heist vehicles and order in heavier or specialised ones is nearby. They head over as quickly as possible but even as they’re pulling up into the back lot they can already hear gunshots. 

“Fuck,” Michael hisses, drawing his own weapon - Ryan’s already got his out, poised to fight.

They rush in. In the main workroom Gavin is fighting with the man who runs the place, Ashford, and his head mechanic, Leung - she’s got a gun but even as they watch Gavin knocks it from her hand and fires his own weapon down into her leg, making her drop with a howl. 

Gavin. Gavin who’s moving with the fierce desperation that Ryan has so very rarely seen him take; usually when he kills someone it’s thoughtless, distracted, seeming almost an afterthought - and even then it’s rare. He’s more on intel than right in the thick of fighting. But this is the look he’s gotten when there’s a threat against one of the others, when an important job is going wrong, when they’re all in deep shit and are fighting their way out of a mess. His jaw clenched, his movements tight and fluid as he ducks a swipe from Ashford - who’s holding a heavy metal _wrench_ , swinging it at Gavin with vicious blows - before he lifts the gun to fire at him.

Ashford’s fast. He brings the wrench down against Gavin’s arm - it’s a glancing blow, but it’s enough to make him stumble and drop the gun. As they watch in horror he slams the wrench into Gavin’s ribs and he doubles over with a gasp - but there’s a savage determination in the way he hardens up and lunges forward, grabbing Ashford’s wrist to stop him swinging again. They exchange a flurry of punching little blows before Gavin finally leaves Ashford a deliberate opening. The other man grabs at him and Gavin drops immediately. Startled, Ashford can’t stop his momentum and ends up flipping over Gavin’s shoulder, landing heavily on the hard cement floor. Gavin snatches up the fallen gun and shoots him in the head without hesitation; he turns and in the same swift motion fires at Leung, who was trying to crawl away. 

It all takes place in a matter of moments, before any of them can step in or do a thing to help. As Gavin lowers the gun they stand watching in the entranceway in a horrified silence. 

“Gav?” Michael chokes out, finally.

Gavin’s standing facing away from them, breathing heavily. At the sound of Michael’s voice he jolts, visibly alarmed, before spinning around to face them. His eyes go wide, his face pales. 

“Wh-what are you lot doing here?” he demands, barely restrained horror in his voice. 

“What the fuck are _you_ doing here?” Michael shoots back. “You - you killed them-” 

“They’re double agents working for Glasgow,” Gavin replies, and takes a deep breath only to wince, hand going to his ribs. There’s blood spotting through his shirt, and Ryan feels the usual flash of concerned protectiveness at the sight of him injured-

Only for it to fade, a second later, when Geoff steps forward. There’s something tight in his voice as he asks, “How did you know that?” 

“Caleb told me,” Gavin says, so confidently that Ryan would almost believe him if it wasn’t for- 

“We were just with Caleb,” Geoff continues. He still sounds calm, if a bit strained. “Gavin, what’s going on here? We hired a hacker to find out who in our crew was a rat and your name was on the list. Now, we’re not saying you did anything but things are looking pretty fucking dodgy with you coming here to off these two-“ 

“You _know_?” Gavin cries then. It comes out too suddenly, choked, like he didn’t mean to say it. “You already saw that I was….” 

He trails off, checking himself - but Ryan’s got a sinking feeling, now, a horrible emptiness seeming to open up in the pit of his stomach, especially when Gavin glances sort of helplessly at the two bodies. 

He can see the looks on the others’ faces. Sees them suddenly questioning everything, even if they don’t want to. 

“Gav?” Jack speaks up, tentatively. 

“It’s not what you think,” Gavin says - but it’s quick, frantic, _scared_ now. Scared of what - _them?_  

“Why’d you kill them?” Ryan startles himself by speaking, and when Gavin’s eyes flick to them there’s something foreign in them. Usually Ryan understands him, can work out what he’s thinking and feeling - but now he doesn’t know what’s in the other man’s head at all.

“You already know,” Gavin repeats, almost incredulously. Like it hasn’t quite sunk in yet. 

“You killed them to stop them telling us you were, what?” Ryan asks, and it hurts to say it but he _has_ to, has to at least rule out the possibility, “One of them?” 

Gavin swallows, hard. He looks like a trapped animal, glancing warily between them. And the looks on their faces aren’t angry, or unkind. Just scared, and concerned, and almost pleading. Geoff starts to step forward, one hand outstretched-

And Gavin turns on his heel and bolts. 

Geoff lets out a startled shout as suddenly Gavin’s halfway across the room and running as fast as he can. On instinct they all leap after him - but he pelts out the workshop doors and starts sprinting. 

He’s got a head start on them as they follow him through the corridors, storerooms and workshops of the huge garage. As he exits out into the main motorcycle holding bay, they - running a few metres back - see him nearly collide with two guards. 

“Gavin?” one of them asks - catching him, surprised. “You okay?” 

They’re not Ashford’s men. They’re two of the Fake AH Crew’s regular security, probably here to pick up a vehicle. 

Gavin twists out of his grip and starts to run again but Geoff hollers out - on instinct, more than anything- 

“Stop him!” 

The man catches Gavin’s arm again. In one swift motion Gavin yanks himself free - then, when the guy grabs for him, brings a knee up to hit him hard in the groin before kicking him back. The second guy, with a yell of surprise, tries to snatch at him - doesn’t hit, obviously wary of hurting him - but Gavin ducks and punches the guy in the stomach, hard enough to wind him, before turning and running again. 

“Gavin,” Geoff hollers - the fight slowed Gavin down enough that they’ve nearly caught up to him - “Stop right the fuck now!” 

Gavin glances over his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry,” he says - or something like it; it’s quiet enough that it’s hard for them to catch. 

And then as they watch, aghast, he sprints out of the garage and hits the switch to send the doors slamming shut behind him. 

Ryan remembers very little of what happens after that. 

It’s all a confused blur. The roar of a motorbike engine. Geoff searching frantically for how to open the doors from this side - the rattle of metal as Michael kicks at the door, angrily. And then, when they burst out and realise there’s no sign of him-

At first Ryan just feels cold.

The sort of cold, numb shock that comes with denial. He’s not quite registering all that happens - or if he is, it’s not sinking in what it _means_. A series of hysterical little events that all seem to happen so quickly. What sticks are the multiple, frantic calls to Gavin’s phone, none of which he answers. The frantic search for him - realising he hasn’t gone back to the base, or his apartment, or any of their safe houses in the area. Eventually going out to bring in all the other double agents, only to find that he hasn’t been over with them either. He hasn’t contacted anyone - not any of the six of them, not anyone else in the crew. 

It’s like he’s fallen off the grid- 

Like he’s _trying_ to disappear. 

What sticks is how they wait, and wait, and wait up for him that night - three a.m., four a.m., five - like he’s going to just come home, to show up at the door. Texting him every half hour and still nothing, the messages repeating over and over like the sixth time they send it it’ll get through to him. _Gavin, where are you?_  

_We’re not angry._

_Please, we’re worried._

_Come back._  

_Come back._  

_Come back._  

And then, of course, there’s the point where it all sinks in. Where he starts properly entertaining the thought that _maybe it’s real, maybe he’s betrayed us after all_. Because what’s real, what’s sure as fucking hell real is how it’s affect the _others_.

Ray’s gone silent, drawing away from them again, and Ryan can practically see all his walls going up again at the prospect of yet another _betrayal_ , this time from someone he loves so dearly. But there’s no time to comfort him because- 

There’s _Michael_. Furious Michael, so angry now. Because as insistent as he was of Gavin’s innocence, Ryan can see the reality sinking in now because _why would he run otherwise? Why would he fucking run_ and when the tears finally come Michael doesn’t even bother to hide them because _of course I’m fucking crying, look at what he fucking_ did _to us, we_ loved _him_ and Ryan can’t even reach out to help him because he feels like he’s turned to stone. He can do nothing but watch, and grow colder and harder inside.

The deaths of Leung and Ashford caused enough of a stir with other clients of the garage and the workers in the area that word of it reaches Glasgow. Of course, this alerts him to the fact that they know about his double agents, and before they even have time to catch their breath he’s launching a full-on assault on their territories, using all his advantages while he still has them - making the most of the information he’s gathered over the years on their tactics, blueprints, and weak-spots before the FAHC can get out of his agents exactly what he knows. 

Geoff’s so busy with all of this that it seems like he can’t even stop to comfort the others - or to deal with the Gavin situation - so at first Ryan, stupidly, assumes that it just hasn’t sunk in for him yet. That is, until he goes into his office, a day or so after it’s happened, and finds him crying too. 

It’s jarring. Geoff cries at fucking _everything_ \- movies, TV shows, one of them leaving for a long job, and he always owns it because when you run half the city you tend to not really care how manly other people think you are. But for some reason, this is different- there’s something secretive in it, as though when Ryan stops short and stares at the red eyes and tear tracks running down Geoff’s face it’s something private, not meant to be seen. 

Geoff just looks at him for a long moment, and Ryan steps forward, one hand outstretched, hating how awkward he feels. Normally, nowadays, it comes naturally as anything to comfort one of his boyfriends - but here and now he finds he has no idea what to say. 

In the end, though, it’s Geoff who speaks first. 

“I trust him,” he says - and it’s all he _keeps_ saying, like a mantra, _I trust him, I trust him_ , but-

_He ran_ , is all Ryan can think, _he’s not answering our calls._  

_He_ left _._

Through it all, of course, there is Jack. Steady, comforting Jack who, despite everything, stays so certain. “It’s okay,” he’ll tell them, “He has to know what he’s doing,” and “He’s out there doing _something_ \- as long as he’s safe, it’s fine,” and “He’ll come back,” and “There has to be a _reason_.”

It’s reassuring at first, because Jack’s never been wrong before about things turning out okay. But the more Ryan hears it, the more it starts to feel flat. Like a lie. The more the oblivious denial starts making him _angry_ because if it _does_ turn out to be false, Jack will be the most hurt of all of them. 

If he felt cold before, now - as two days turn into three - he just feels hot, like every nerve ending is on fire. The _hurt_ is there, of course, burning, burning. _Everything we built here - everything we gave him - everything we thought he gave_ us _\- all false after all?_  

It only gets worse when they start interrogating the rest of the double agents, asking them if there are any others. Ryan helps with the more… brutal questioning techniques, and it doesn’t take long for one of them to crack - the weakest, an investor who sold out to Glasgow and isn’t so much loyal to him as just on his payroll. _Any others,_ they ask, and _Gavin Free,_ he tells them. _He’s not here. He’s the main one behind all this, I’m telling you, it’s him you want, I didn’t do shit, he’s the one you really want to get._

It’s jarring to hear it from his mouth, and Ryan properly closes off then. Words can’t fucking express how angry he is - he feels it swelling up in his chest, ready to burst, drowning out everything else. Making it hard for him to be soft around the others, they way they need. Michael is angry too and the both of them cast a cloud over all the others; there is no _hope_ here now, just that tormenting knowledge that it’s looking a hell of a lot like it’s true. Gavin works for Glasgow.

_Liar, liar, liar_. 

Ryan’s betrayed - hurt the way he’s been hurt before - the sort of hurt that makes him want to run as far as he can from all this, close off and layer walls up like an oyster defending what little pearl it has left. 

But there’re still the others. 

The others who have been so hurt too - _they_ didn’t turn on him, he can still trust _them_ \- and he has to protect them, he realises. He clings to _that_ , at least. 

It’s a struggle of feelings. He hates Gavin, briefly at first - but that doesn’t last. It’s his anger talking more than anything. Despite everything - when he thinks of the other man, he can still only remember him as _their_ Gavin, precious, sweet little Gavin who they loved so much. He’s still furious, yes, but he’s also _confused_. Doesn’t understand how it could _all_ have been a lie. 

Four days. That’s already too long. 

“I can find him,” he says. He’s in Geoff’s office and the air con is too cold for this time of year and he hasn’t seen Michael and Ray since yesterday. They’re busy, dealing with Glasgow’s attacks, but they could have come home if they wanted to. He knows what that means. 

“We need you here,” Geoff replies. He sounds exhausted and he’s already had two glasses of whiskey - dry, full to the brim - and is pouring a third. Dark circles under his eyes, unshaven. 

“No you don’t,” Ryan replies. His voice is flat, logical. “You have it handled. We can spare one person. There’s nothing I can do that Matt and Jeremy can’t step up and try themselves.” 

Geoff and Jack exchange a glance.

“We need you _here_ ,” Jack says - and nods behind Ryan. He turns and looks out the office window and his heart skips a little beat as finally, _finally_ he sees Ray entering the base. He’s got his rifle hanging off one shoulder, his hood up covering his face - shoulders hunched up, looking withdrawn the way he was when they first met. It makes Ryan’s heart ache, but he steels himself and turns back to Geoff and Jack. He can’t just sit around here to baby Ray - that’s not what the other man needs right now. What they need are answers. What they need is to fucking deal with this.

“We need to bring him back,” he says. He means it to come out firmly, but it seems cold instead, and hard. Jack’s eyes widen a little at his harsh tone. 

“Ryan,” he says - placatingly - “Look, we all want him back. We’ve told Rooster Teeth and they’re trying to look for him but as soon as we finish up with this Glasgow shit we can properly start trying to find him. If Gus turns up anything of course we’ll _all_ go after him but until then the rest of us need to stay together-" 

Geoff starts nodding, and when Ryan glances at him he realises he’s nodding at _him_ , not Jack. 

“You’re right,” Geoff cuts in. “We shouldn’t just leave him out there. God knows what he’s up to - whether he’s in danger. Hell, if Glasgow knows he’s escaped he might be after him. Try to shut him up before we can find him and talk.” 

Ryan jolts; he hadn’t considered the possibility that Gavin was in direct _danger_. 

But still. Whatever situation he’s in, all the evidence is adding up to make it one that involves him having sold information against them. He can’t forget that.

Jack closes his mouth. He looks pained, and there’s something in the way he’s staring at Ryan that Ryan really doesn’t like. Like Jack’s… judging him, or something - it’s the way he used to look at Ryan back when they only knew him as Vagabond. Still kind, still caring, but wary, too. It makes him uneasy, makes him even more concerned that whatever Gavin’s done won’t just take him away, but will make the rest of them fall apart as well. 

Geoff doesn’t seem to notice. He sets his glass down and nods at Ryan earnestly.

“Bring him home,” he says, and Ryan nods and leaves. But Geoff’s words won’t leave his mind.

_Bring him home._

Bring him _back_ was what Ryan had said. He can’t help but wonder if this was ever a home to Gavin at all. After all, he’s the one who ran away from it.

The thought stings, and it comes naturally to think that he should prepare for the worst. So he hardens himself, and begins to prepare the way he prepares for any bounty. Steels up and gets in the mindset - _go after your target. Anything else is secondary. If they struggle, restrain them. Don’t stop until you find them. When you do, don’t let them get away_. He sets emotion inside - _don’t think about it as Gavin. Think about it as the informant who slipped away when you were catching the others. This isn’t your boyfriend right now, this is your mark._

Jack wouldn’t approve. When he goes to see Ryan off he can tell the other man is annoyed with him - Ryan’s got his mask on, and his face done up in paint, and he’s got his gun at his hip. Jack starts to protest but Ryan pulls his mask off for a moment and shuts him up with a kiss - it’s hard, rough even, but Jack kisses back, hands resting on Ryan’s shoulders. Ryan feels himself start to soften and jerks away, tugging the mask back on.

“I’ll see you soon,” he says gruffly.

Whatever Jack says after that, he doesn’t listen to the second he registers it’s something to do with Gavin. Just turns away and swings onto his bike and sets off. And as he rides, as he gets farther and farther from the others, from _home_ \- it comes naturally to psyche himself up. To get angry and angry and _angry_ the more he thinks about Glasgow, and what selling out the crew means, how fucking _bad_ of a position they’re in because they let the mark get so close to them only for him to show his true colours.

The mark was heading east, out of the city, when Ryan started researching him.

He begins his hunt.

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

Ryan drives all day, barely stopping. No matter how fast he goes, it’s still nightfall by the time he arrives. It’s strange to be back in Achievement City after so long - the others have kept him updated while he was away, and he knows that Glasgow’s taken over a few parts of the city, that things are a bit more out of control than they were before-

_Before_ , when the six of them ruled like kings, secure in their positions. An unstoppable, unbreakable force at the top of the food chain. Now they’re unstable. Now they’re down one, and it feels like their carefully constructed kingdom is suddenly swaying like a tower of cards, ready to crumble at any moment.

That’s not true. Even jarred as they are, even without Gavin, Geoff’s still in control, and Michael and Ray are still dangerous, and Jack’s still running things from behind the scenes the way he always does. B-Team are good at what they do. Things aren’t about to all collapse. 

But still, the uncertainty has every dark alleyway seeming darker, every flash of sirens in the distance more menacing, every lone figure he passes smoking in the street more sinister. 

When he finally gets back to the base he feels like he’s just driven through the jungle at night, like he’s just passed by venomous snakes and glowing eyes in the dark and the warm lights of the building, its familiar high walls, are his final safety. In fact, it’s so good to be home - to see Michael waiting outside the doors to meet him - that for a moment it nearly overwhelms him and he has to take a second, sitting in his car, to compose himself. 

It’s been a trying week; he’s normally better at keeping an image of aloofness up. Not now. Not when all this has hit so close to the heart. 

“Ryan,” Michael calls out when he sees him approach. He rushes forward to meet him and tug him into a hug.

To touch one of the others after all that’s happened is such a relief that Ryan could cry; he hugs Michael back fiercely, head ducked down to bury his face in the other’s shoulder. He has tried to be strong for too long now and to finally be _held_ like someone has him wanting to let _everything_ go, to let the others just take care of this now-

But he can’t, and after a moment he pulls back, though he does lean in to kiss Michael quickly. The other man lets out a briefly surprised noise when he catches a glimpse of Ryan’s face in the light of the open doorway.

“Jesus Christ, dude, what the fuck happened to you?” 

“Glasgow sent men after Gavin,” Ryan replies. 

“Fuckin’ hell, what’s the other guy look like?” Michael reaches up, gently running a finger over Ryan’s bruised throat; he shivers and pulls back. 

“Unfortunately better than this. I kind of lost the fight.” 

“You okay?”

“Shoulder’s fucked up. But I’ve had a lot worse.” He reaches up to rub it and Michael bites his lip, looking upset. He looks pretty dishevelled himself, Ryan notices - he’s got his glasses on, his hair longer and unruly than it usually is. It’s a combination that makes him look too soft, too much like he doesn’t belong in the field, and even if Ryan knows he’s as dangerous as ever, it still makes him want to protect him more than he already does. He looks tired, too - tired the way Ryan used to be, the way he is now - tired like he’s held on to something bad, something angry, for far too long. 

Michael hesitates, then after a second he asks, “What about Gavin? He get out of it okay?” 

“Okay enough to climb out a window and run on me,” Ryan says drily, and Michael grimaces as he opens the door and starts to lead the way through the base to the main conference room. 

“Burnie says it’s fine to just leave him,” he mutters. “I sure as hell hope he knows what he’s talking about.”

“What’s even going on here? How come he’s involved?”

“Fuck if I know,” Michael says. “But maybe we can finally get some answers.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

The others are all waiting inside the room already.

Burnie’s sitting at the head of the table - Jack by his side, Ray lounging across from him - Geoff is standing, leaning against the wall with his arms folded. They all look up when they see Ryan approaching from through the window.

The first thing he notices is how tired they all look. But Jack smiles, to see him, and Geoff does too - and Ray pushes his hood back. He looks relieved, if anything.

“Ryan,” Geoff says, hurrying over to pull him into a hug. “It’s good to have you back. You being gone for weeks on end on top of everything else…”

“I’m here now,” Ryan says, hugging him back tightly. Jack moves up next to them; he hugs Ryan next, kissing him too - but they’re all acutely aware of Burnie sitting there, watching them, and it isn’t long before they quickly turn to him. There’ll be time enough for reunions later.

“Ryan,” Burnie greets. He looks exhausted too - his beard grown out, tired creases around his eyes. Ryan wonders how his alliance meetings went, but that’s not what they’re here to talk about.

“Burnie. Exactly what’s going on here?” Ryan doesn’t sit down - Geoff and Michael don’t either - and spread about the room like this it feels a little too much like they’re here to interrogate Burnie. Like he’s an enemy they’re picking for information. That’s not true at all, and it’d kill Ryan if someone _else_ turned out to be a traitor - he has to kick himself to remember that Burnie’s still on their side in all this, and if all goes as he hopes he can maybe help them understand exactly how they got to this point.

A tense silence falls in the room as Burnie takes his glasses off and rubs his eyes. It’s Jack who breaks it.

“Burnie… we’ve been so confused these last few weeks, with Gavin and… and everything that’s happened. Things have just gone to shit and if you have answers, if you can let us know exactly what’s going on here, then you have to tell us.”

“I will,” Burnie says tiredly.

“Gavin refused to tell me a damn thing when I had him,” Ryan adds, and Burnie’s eyes flicker over to him as he nods.

“As I expected. That’s why I rushed over here as soon as possible, even once I knew you were bringing him back.”

“ _As you expected_? What does that even mean?” Geoff demands, and Burnie sighs. He takes a moment to gather himself - they wait, though Michael’s fingers are drumming impatiently against the edge of the table and Ryan’s jaw is clenching steadily tighter.

Finally, Burnie speaks. His voice is low, quiet - almost flat, like he’s reciting some classified document.

“About four years ago,” he says, “I noticed that the police were intercepting Rooster Teeth’s operations a little more than they should have been. And that rival crews seemed to have too much information on us. That clients who didn’t work with us knew about our business dealings. It was obvious there was a leak somewhere. I dug into it - quietly, not knowing who it was - and found there were more than I expected. A _lot_ more,” he adds, huffing out a humourless laugh.

“That just happened to us,” Michael begins - Geoff shushes him gently, and Burnie continues.

“I weeded them out. But it was only a matter of weeks before more sprung up again. The more I investigated, the more I realised that a… culture of spying, to put it one way, was springing up in Achievement City and the other states around the area. Funhaus had been having the same problem. Even Kjellberg over in his area was having problems with police moles breaking into his crew. Double agents seemed to be the in thing. So what was I meant to do? Just keep rooting them out and then waiting for more to spring up? Screening people more carefully wasn’t helping. The other gangs were getting sneakier and sneakier - long-term moles, people who didn’t start sending information out until they’d been working with us months if not years.”

“You didn’t tell me about all this,” Geoff adds - Michael mockingly shushes him too, but Burnie glances up at him and sighs.

“And I fucking wish I had now. I’m sorry, Geoff - at the time I had no idea who I could trust.”

“Gus and Matt know?” Geoff asks, sounding rather put out.

“Yes,” Burnie says, a bit guiltily. “But you hadn’t started the Fake AH Crew at that point yet, and by the time I wanted to tell you, I had… other plans come up. Let me finish and you can yell at me all you want then.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Geoff says, but falls silent again.

“Anyway,” Burnie said. “I couldn’t stop the problem. It was too persistent. So I thought, if I can’t get rid of them entirely, then what can I do? Try to find out what they know. Plant my own spies who can tell me what information the other crews have on us, so I can at least adjust Rooster Teeth’s plans to trick them, or control exactly what information’s being sent out.”

He pauses again, swallowing - seeming almost hesitant now, and Ryan’s starting to feel oddly nervous. The pieces aren’t still quite together in his mind yet, although they’re getting there.

“You planted your own double agents,” Jack begins, and Burnie shakes his head.

“A step further than that. I wanted people who’d be in on exactly what information was being taken from us. So I started up a new program - a little subsection of Rooster Teeth, highly classified. A bunch of people who I could completely trust, who I knew were capable of managing a _lot_ of lies and cover stories at once, charming and personable enough that no one would question them, and who were _completely_ loyal to me above anyone else. Not double agents,” he says, and bites his lip before admitting, “Triple agents.”

There is a moment of stunned silence.

“What the _fuck_ ,” Michael says.

Honesty, Ryan has no fucking words. It’s like a line from a bad Mission Impossible movie and seems so fucking unbelievable that he just - doesn’t even know what to think. _We think Gav’s working for us. Glasgow thinks he’s working for him. But all along he’s working for - Burnie? As if my headache wasn’t fucking bad enough already._

“Gavin’s one of them,” Burnie says. “I slipped him into Glasgow’s crew a long time ago - as soon as he came over from England. Glasgow thinks he’s a double agent who sold out on Rooster Teeth and is now feeding information to him about the FAHC. But this whole time he’s been working for me - telling me who the other agents in your crew are, what information Glasgow’s after, and what heists he’s planning on messing with. From there I can control, through Gavin, what jobs we should assign to the moles so that they can’t cause too much damage, what plans we should change at the last minute to foil Glasgow, and which ones we should let him have that won’t cause too much damage so he doesn’t suspect we know about his rats.”

“So all along,” Geoff says - and his voice is oddly cold, oddly dark and dangerous and the tone that makes people remember that the King of Achievement City is a man to be feared - “You’ve been, what? The fucking _puppet master?_ Pulling all the strings behind the scenes without consulting any of the rest of us? Who the hell else knows about this?”

“Gus and Matt,” Burnie repeats. “And all the triple agents. Look, I would have told you but-"

“Oh please, tell me, I’m _dying_ to hear the fucking _but_ ,” Geoff snaps.

“Ha ha ha, fucking butt,” Ray murmurs, and Ryan can’t help it; he chokes on his own spit and starts laughing so hard that his ribs ache. The others’ heads snap around to them, surprised.

“I can’t…” Ryan trails off, struggling to get a breath in. It’s not even that funny but Ray - Ray was so silent, and so blank looking, that he’d assumed the other man was terribly upset and closed off from the rest of them, so the ridiculous comment comes as such a relief that he just - can’t help it. There’s probably something a bit hysterical about his laughter but honestly, this whole night feels like some fevered dream. Gavin gone. Hours on the road. And now Burnie’s unbelievable revelation - _fucking butt_ is the absolute best part of his night and that’s saying something.

When Ray gives a mock stage-bow Ryan shoots him a grateful smile; Ray’s lips twitch and he reaches across to press Ryan’s arm from where he’s sitting.

“If we can continue, gentlemen,” Geoff says, but he looks a bit less on-edge now.

Burnie’s smiling weakly too, though it fades quickly.

“Very few people could know about this,” he says. “Because if you’d known Gavin was a triple agent, you would have been careful about what you told him, what jobs you put him on, since you knew that invariably he would have to tell Glasgow some of it to keep his cover up. Gavin’s trained to be able to carry out a lie. You’re not. No matter how hard you tried, you’d treat him differently if you knew - and that would be suspicious. For everything to flow smoothly, it had to be kept as classified as possible.”

Geoff bites his lip. He can’t argue with that, but it’s obvious he doesn’t like it. Hell, Ryan doesn’t like it either.

Above all, now that it’s sinking in, there’s a tremendous relief that Gavin isn’t working against them after all. And the guilt’s creeping in now - that he ever believed that Gavin _could_ harm them, could be planning to get them all hurt or killed.

But Gavin still lied to them. Still kept a really fucking big secret this whole time, even after they got together.

Burnie’s looking at him, he realises, and meets the other man’s eyes. Burnie gives a humourless little smile.

“Gavin ran when he realised you knew he was a double agent because he knew you’d ask questions,” he said. “This whole program is so delicate that we have a protocol. If someone gets outed, they can’t say a thing about it - even to people who they trust, people on our side - because it could ruin everything. You’d start wondering who else was in the program, and if you knew then _they_ might be compromised. The rule is that if someone finds out about you, you run and get to a safe house and wait for my orders.”

“If it’s so secret, why are you telling us all this now?” Jack demands.

“Because you deserve to know, after what happened with Gav,” Burnie says flatly. “I can’t have you thinking the worst about him. And things are changing around here. The FAHC is the biggest crew in the city. Word’s spread that you had _eighteen_ moles in your gang - that’s big. Everyone else is frantically combing through their crews too trying to make sure everyone can be trusted. Like I said, the culture of spying? That’s coming to an end now that everyone’s paranoid. It’s also too dangerous right now for my triple agents, so I’m ending the program. Calling them all back in.”

He gives a tight smile.

“The Rooster Teeth people they were planted in won’t be happy that they’ve been lied to, but it’s better than putting them in danger.”

“So who else is one of these agents?” Jack asks, quietly. Ryan glances over at him - he looks relieved, almost _happy_. _Of course, now that we know Gavin’s not a traitor, he probably thinks things will be just peachy again._ _It doesn’t work like that._

“Barbara, in my crew,” Burnie says. “Chris and Aaron; the police think they’re working for them. Blaine Gibson, that hired merc who’s done a bunch of jobs for both of us - him too. And Willems, over in Funhaus.”

The names drop heavily from his lips and honestly, Ryan hates him a little bit in that moment. Because he _gets it_ \- he gets exactly why Burnie did it, and how he was trying to keep them safe - but still. They’ve been lied to this whole time, played for fools, and people they thought they trusted weren’t what they seemed all along. That hurts. That makes it hard to trust _anyone_ , and he can see from the look on Burnie’s face that he knows that.

And still - under it all, he can’t help but think of Gavin, poor, desperate Gavin and all his frustration as he tried to assure Ryan that _it’s not what you think_ and _it’s_ _not as bad as what you’re expecting_ and _I can explain everything, if you just wait_. God. It must have killed him to _know_ that he wasn’t a traitor but be unable to say why-

And there was Ryan, pushing him along and roughing him up, cutting him with harsh accusations and unkind words. He was hurt himself, yes, but Gavin - Gavin was just following orders. Orders from _Burnie_ , who he trusts above everyone else. Who Ryan thought he trusted too, until now.

There’s a sullen silence settled over all of them now. Burnie looks drained, but also a little defensive.

It’s Michael who finally speaks. His voice is thick and hesitant.

“Gavin was in a relationship with us,” he says. “You _knew_ that.”

“I know,” Burnie says, and rubs his hands over his face. “That… that really wasn’t part of the plan. I was pretty annoyed when I found out, because I knew it would make it harder for him to lie to you - that when it _did_ come out it would make everything more complicated. And I was right - but I can tell you this, Gavin falling in love with you? That wasn’t a script, or a plot, or a ploy. He asked me if I could pull him from the program, when he started to notice that you were interested in him. But he was already in too deep and the information he was giving me on Glasgow was saving your asses every day, let me tell you that. Glasgow planted a bomb on one of your heists, did you know that?”

“We disabled it,” Geoff says, and Burnie nods.

“The only reason you knew how? Because Gavin sent me the type of bomb it was beforehand, I looked up how to disarm it, and forwarded the information to Michael to read up on ‘out of interest’. Worked like a charm. When Gavin realised how much he was needed, he stayed put. He didn’t like it, but that’s the rules. He works for me, not you - even if he did love you all. But he’d never do a thing to harm you. Like I said,” he adds. “It got… complicated. I stand by everything I did, but you know Gavin’s like family to me. Seeing how much it killed him to lie to you? That made me second guess. I suppose it doesn’t matter much now.”

“Jesus Christ, Burnie,” Geoff snaps. It’s one of the few times Ryan’s seen him genuinely furious - he’s pretty pissed off himself, but still mostly shellshocked - but Geoff, Geoff’s so angry that it’s nearly frightening. “I can’t fucking believe you kept us in the dark, _especially_ after we got together with Gavin. Did you not fucking realise how much this could hurt us - could hurt _him_ too? What if one of our guards had seen him on that list and got in a fight and seriously hurt him while trying to bring him in?”

“Gavin can handle himself,” Burnie says flatly. “It’s why I told Ryan to come back without him. He’s a lot stronger than you think.”

“I don’t fucking care,” Geoff snarls. “Well, do you have any other truth bombs to drop on us? Don’t suppose there’s any _quadruple_ agents you want to mention? Because now would really be the fucking time, I’m telling you.”

“No quadruple agents,” Burnie assures him.

“So what happens now?” Jack asks. He’s put a hand on Geoff’s shoulder and while the other man’s fallen silent, Ryan can still see how worked up he is.

“I’ve already sent Blaine out to pick up Gavin,” Burnie says. “I know which safehouse he’s going to. It won’t take him long to get there. Blaine’s taken a chopper and he’ll have him here in a few hours’ time.”

Ryan jolts.

_A few hours?_

He thought he’d have longer than that to prepare himself to see Gavin again, with this new information in mind - to let it sink in a bit, and have the five of them discuss it. But now the knowledge that Gavin’s going to be here so damn _soon_ is enough to make panic rise up in his throat.

_Oh my God. He must hate me now. I didn’t believe him - didn’t_ trust _him - he probably thinks I don’t love him any more, and God, he’d be right to be_ furious _with me. With all of us. How can I look him in the eye?_

The guilt is nearly suffocating, like his lungs are full of seawater, a crushing pressure that leaves a coppery taste at the back of his tongue. He feels terrible-

But also terrible for how, even now, he’s still somewhat put out by the fact that Gavin trusted Burnie _more than them_ , that he continued to keep this secret even after they all got together. Even if it’s not as bad as selling them out - it’s still a hell of a big secret to keep, the fact that you're essentially spying on your boyfriends, even if it was for Burnie and not Glasgow. And when Ryan was dragging him back here - Gavin could have told him then, when he _saw_ how much it was hurting Ryan not to know.

Hell, Ryan _cried_ in front of him, and still he was silent.

It only makes him feel worse and worse to realise he’s still angry with Gavin. But bad as he feels about that, it doesn’t compare to his guilt about losing control, about treating Gavin more like a bounty or a prisoner than someone he used to ( _still does_ ) care about. And now he’s got a total of two or three hours to work through it before he has to see him again? Fuck that.

Before he knows what he’s doing he’s turning on his heel and stalking out of the conference room. He hears Jack call something out after him, but ignores him; he really can’t deal with the other man’s relentless optimism right now.

_Need some air._

‘Some air,’ it turns out, only makes things worse.

Out there alone in the dark parking lot, there’s nothing to distract him. Just the cold air and the pain in his shoulder and the pressing guilt in the pit of his stomach.

_How could you,_ is all he can think, _how could you ever think he’d hurt you? How could you ever think he’d genuinely work for Glasgow - that he’d betray you like that - how could you not_ trust _him?_

And the answer, of course, is obvious.

_Because you’re you._

_The Vagabond doesn’t trust people. The Vagabond is alone, alone, alone. Always has been, always will be. That’s just what you_ do. _You think the worst of people and you push them away and because of that you_ hurt _people, people who care about you-_

_You hurt him._

He can’t stop thinking about it. The fear in Gavin’s eyes when he looked up at him - the blinding rage that took over him, to the point where he hadn’t even noticed how hard he was shaking the other man.

All this time, he’d been so angry because he thought Gavin had ruined them. Had broken apart the best thing that all six of them had.

But he was wrong. The whole time, the _whole time_ he was dragging Gavin back here - _it was me. It was me that was slowly ruining everything because I couldn’t fucking control myself, because I let how fucking_ scared _I was take over - if I’d just fucking trusted Gavin and let him come back with me on his own, let him wait and contact Burnie and explain - maybe everything might’ve worked out._

_But now he hates me - maybe he hates all of us - if this fucking falls apart..._ and in that moment, he is quite certain that it will - _if_ we _fall apart, it won’t be because of Gavin. It’ll be because of me._

I _caused this._

He’s breathing too fast but can’t quite get himself to stop, feeling oddly detached from his own body. It’s cold out here, even with his jacket on, and he keeps reaching up to adjust his mask only to find that it isn’t there.

When the front door opens behind him, he jumps a mile, whipping around. It’s Ray, exiting cautiously - Ryan stumbles back away from him, throwing up a hand.

“Leave, Ray.” It comes out harsher than he intended, but Ray isn’t fazed, continuing to move forward.

“Ryan…”

“I mean it. Don’t come near me.” He swallows. It’s hard, it feels like there’s a stone stuck in his throat. “I… I might hurt you.”

“You won’t hurt me,” Ray says, low and flat but perfectly confident. He keeps moving forward and Ryan stands, shaking, and after a moment Ray puts a hand carefully on his arm like he’s calming a skittish horse. Ryan flinches, but Ray doesn’t move back, and after a moment he rubs Ryan’s arm and then puts his arms around him, pulling him into a gentle hug. Ryan stands stiffly at first before letting his head slump forward to rest in the crook of Ray’s neck.

“You're okay,” Ray murmurs.

“I don’t know…” It comes out choked; he barely even knows what he’s saying. “I didn’t know and I… I…”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Ray’s fingers settle in his hair, pulling his face closer against his shoulder, the other strokes gently down his back. “Everything will be fine, okay? We’ll sort this out.”

It vaguely hits him that it’s strange to hear that from _Ray_ \- Ray, who was pulling away from them before, who has trust issues as big as Ryan’s, who should have been horrified to hear that Gavin’s been keeping such a big secret from them this whole time - but for now-

For now, he’s just so _tired_ , and he lets himself take it. Lets himself shut his eyes and tug Ray closer and draw comfort from finally, finally getting to _hold_ one of the others. Ray’s never been fazed by a single thing Ryan’s done, or told him about. Perhaps he won’t hate him. At least _this_ , here, now, is fine, even if it’s still a worried push at the back of his mind that despite Burnie’s explanations, everything else won’t be.

 

* * *

 

“Gavin did that?” Jack asks, softly.

Ryan nods as he slowly peels the tape away from his nose. The swelling’s gone down by now and it’s long stopped bleeding, but it’s still tender to touch and covered in horrible bruises that look a lot worse than they feel. Combined with his other injuries, it’s not a pretty sight.

They’re all down in the infirmary. This late at night there’s something eerie to the quiet room; the harsh fluorescent lights, the chill of the air conditioning, the cold tiled floors and metal benches. Ryan’s leaning against one of them, shirt off, cleaning himself up. Surrounded by everything that’s so clinically clean, the grime, bruises, and smudges of old blood on his skin stand out even more.

Geoff’s standing nearby. _Brooding_ is the only word to describe what he’s doing; scowling around at them all with a massive glass of whiskey in hand. He keeps drumming his hand against the bench and the metal of his rings is making clanging little noises that echo through the tiled room like some horrid gong, or tolling death bell.

Jack’s fluttering around Ryan. He’s got the first aid kit out and Ryan was trying to change his own bandages, but Jack keeps moving in to try and help. At first Ryan tries to bat him away, wanting to do it himself, but Jack’s insistent and after a moment Ryan gives up and lets him clean out the wound on his shoulder again, press ice to his bruised throat and stick new bandaids over the worst of the scrapes. Despite himself, he relaxes a little under Jack’s gentle hands.

When Jack finally steps back, it feels a little like a spell has been broken, the tense silence in the room shattered by his moving. He looks at Ryan’s bruised face and his lips twist unhappily, but it’s Geoff his gaze drifts to next.

“Don’t get drunk,” he says, and Geoff looks up. His eyes are bloodshot, his mouth set in a tense line as he puts down his now-empty glass with another harsh, ringing _clink_.

“I’m so fucking pissed off,” he says, and Ryan glances over at him.

“At Gavin?” he asks, curtly, but Geoff shakes his head immediately.

“No, at fucking _Burnie_ ,” he spits. “What the fuck does he think he’s playing at, running all these schemes and keeping me in the dark like an idiot? Fucking _triple agents -_ putting Gavin in that sort of position.”

“Gavin agreed to do it,” Ryan begins, and Geoff snorts.

“Of course he did. You know Gavin, he’s a pushover when it comes to taking jobs for the crew. And he loves Burnie. You know if Burnie asked him to stay on he wouldn’t want to argue about it.”

“But he was lying to _us_ ,” Ryan points out. “This whole time, even after we saw the list - he still wouldn’t tell me what was happening. Even when I got upset about it,” he admits - his voice wobbles and to cover it he makes his voice harsher as he continues, “He picked Burnie over _us_.”

He doesn’t like what he’s saying. He’s exhausted, and unsure of himself, and he should really just shut up and keep quiet, but he _can’t_ , somehow. Some detestable part of himself almost wants to push them away, a defence mechanism he thought he’d grown out of. It hurt less when he pushed Gavin away, after all, on the way back here. Anger is far more palatable than guilt.

Geoff’s frowning at him, getting defensive now. And Ryan can already see where this is going - Geoff has Burnie to blame everything on now. He loves Gavin so much that he’d forgive him for anything, no matter what the others think, how they see it.

“When Gav entered the program he never thought he’d fall for us,” Geoff snaps. “You heard Burnie, he was keeping us safe. Probably thought it would put the crew in a bad situation if he _did_ tell us the truth.”

Ryan bites his lip. He remembers, suddenly, what Gavin said to him in the car - _once I tell you what’s going on here, everything changes with the crew… it’s bigger than just us._ He sees exactly what he means now - what Burnie was telling them about; how if they knew there were triple agents they’d start being more careful and it could blow the agents’ cover - it’s not a fun position for anyone to be in. Of course Gavin erred on the side of caution. He was protecting the entire operation.

Even if he realises this, it must not show on his face, because Geoff takes an angry step towards him.

“The fuck’s your problem, Ryan?” he demands. “Why are you being like this?”

Even if he can see just how exhausted and worn down Geoff is - how upset the other man’s getting by his own accusatory remarks - it still _hurts_ , Geoff yelling at him like that after he’s had such an awful week.

Of course, he covers that by hardening up. Face going blank, straightening up to make himself as tall and imposing as possible.

“I’m the Vagabond,” he growls, “It’s my job to make sure at least _one_ of us is careful, that we don’t just rush into something-”

“You have trust issues, that’s what,” Geoff snaps, and Ryan flinches - but the next minute Geoff softens, stepping towards him. Something pleading in his voice as he says, “It’s _Gavin_ , Ryan - don’t you love him?”

“He broke my nose,” Ryan begins, but it comes out weak, an excuse. He can’t find the words to properly express any of this, and after a moment he says, feebly, “Look, I’m not angry with him.”

“It sure as hell sounds like you are,” Geoff mutters.

“Don’t fight,” Jack cuts in, glancing between them. “Look, we’ll sort it out-”

“We _can’t_ ,” Ryan insists, and finally, _finally_ the words come to him. The anger, the weakness, slips away in place of what he really feels. _Scared_. “You think Gavin _wants_ to be back with us, now? After what we all thought he did? You can’t deny it,” he says, staring at both of us, “ _You thought he betrayed us too_.”

Geoff’s eyes flicker away guiltily, even Jack’s lips press together. Because it’s true, whether it was for a moment or an hour or _three weeks_ , they all, they _all_ entertained the notion that Gavin really had betrayed them. They all sent Ryan after him. They all didn’t mind that Ryan was forcing him to come back.

“Do you really think,” Ryan cries, “We can get all six of us on the same page again?”

Jack swallows hard.

“Ryan…”

“It’s all ruined. And hell, even the _five_ of us,” he snaps, swiping an arm angrily through the air, “That’s not gonna work! Fucking look at me, I thought I was _over_ this, not being able to… to trust people, questioning _everything_ , being so fucking _scared_ that people are going to turn on me, to turn out to not be what I expect, and now that it’s happened I can’t… I thought maybe I could deal with it but-”

“Ryan.” It’s Geoff this time, looking stricken, but Ryan ignores him. Swallows hard, gets himself a bit more composed.

“Look,” he says, tightly. “ _I_ fucked things up with Gavin, but if you guys play your cards right - he might be fine with you. You kept looking for other explanations, Jack - and Geoff, you’re so close to him - he might be okay with all the rest of you, if you act like you weren’t ever angry with him… I don’t know. It’s all fucked up.”

“We’re not doing anything without you,” Jack says firmly. “Jesus Christ, Ryan, don’t talk like that. We nearly lost Gavin. We can’t lose you too. Look, we _will_ find a way to sort this out-”

“Michael and Ray, too,” Ryan continues, barely registering what he’s saying - but he sighs, then. “I just… I’m not trying to say I don’t _want_ to fix things. But I… I don’t know if _I_ can get over this, I just - there are so many things he must have lied about just to stop us suspecting what he was doing. Phone calls, meetings with Burnie _and_ Glasgow, things he botched on jobs deliberately… not to mention he’s a far better liar than we _ever_ thought. Even all those times that he killed people and we were surprised by how easily he could do it? Sure, Gavin’s not a traitor - but we still don’t know _who_ he is.”

Geoff’s turning away, pouring himself another glass like he doesn’t want to hear it. Even Jack looks pained, but neither of them can deny the truth of what Ryan’s saying.

“We wait for him to come home,” Jack says finally. His voice is stilted and desperate. “When we see him in person, we… we can talk about this. We’ll know what’s real and what’s not.”

Ryan swallows hard, and looks away. Finally he falls silent - has nothing left to say.

He remembers what Gavin told him. _The things that mattered,_ that they were real.

Maybe that’s the problem. If Gavin had just been a friend of theirs, an employee - they could have still worked together. But the fact that they were so _close_ is making things hard. Even now that they know what Burnie was up to, things still feel uncertain. Like none of them can even guess at what will happen next.

Jack opens his mouth again, but before he can say anything, there’s a rap on the door. They look up to see Ray standing there. He looks over at Ryan and their eyes meet for a moment - Ray looks concerned, but a moment later he turns to Geoff, and his next words make a sick shock jolt through Ryan.

“Blaine and Gavin just landed at the helipad. They’ll be here in five minutes.”

 

* * *

 

Burnie and Michael are already waiting outside, and the others rush to join them as a dark car pulls up outside the base. Ryan can barely breathe; it feels like there’s a vice around his chest. They’re standing in a funny little cluster - Burnie some distance away from the rest of them - and Michael, next to Ryan, looks as sick as Ryan feels. Ryan still hasn’t gotten the chance to talk to him, see where _his_ head’s at after all this - but he looks up at Ryan after a minute and then grabs his arm. Ryan can’t tell if it’s for support or if he’s trying to reassure him, but he’s glad for the other man’s touch.

Blaine gets out of the car first, and Ryan can’t help but look at the other man differently. He’d always trusted him, too - one of their most reliable regular hires; a friendly, easy-going guy who pretty much only took jobs for RT’s different divisions. Knowing now that he must have been secretly working for other gangs too, the whole time, feeding information back to Burnie, makes him wonder just how much he _doesn’t_ know about him. He’d never thought Blaine a good liar but apparently he was really fucking wrong about that.

And then, of course, there is Gavin.

He scrambles out of the car and inches towards them, hands shoved awkwardly in his pockets. With his shoulders hunched up and his shirt ripped and blood spattered, he looks too small and uncertain.

His gaze darts over all five of them too quickly for them to catch his eye, and he makes no move to go over to them. The silence is horrible, everyone breathing too heavily but no one saying a word.

After a moment, Jack starts to step forward - but Gavin catches sight of Burnie, then, and rushes towards him.

“Burnie,” Ryan hears him choke out - he meets the other man in a crushing hug and Burnie folds him into his arms immediately. Jack’s outstretched hand falls back to his side and a flash of hurt crosses his face that makes Ryan ache; despite everything he, too, can’t help the sick feeling it gives him that Gavin doesn’t come to one of _them_ for comfort.

“Gavin,” Burnie replies, hugging him tightly. “You okay?”

Whatever Gavin murmurs, Ryan doesn’t catch, but it makes Burnie’s face twist and he pulls Gavin closer to him, one hand coming up to settle in his hair. Next to Ryan, Michael’s tense as a rock and shaking - Geoff’s got one arm around Jack now, too. All of them look ready to rush over there, but at the same time Ryan can tell how _scared_ they all are - that Gavin doesn’t want them there-

( _That he doesn’t love us anymore-)_

“-found out about me,” Gavin’s saying, his voice choked and desperate. “I didn’t… I didn’t know someone could do that, could just _find out_ all the agents in the crew but it… it blew my cover-”

“It’s okay, Gav,” Burnie says - he pushes Gavin back a little, one hand coming up to thumb some of the blood and grime from his face, frowning at the bruises. “It’s okay, I’m gonna sort everything out.”

“But it’s all ruined.” Gavin darts a little glance over at them and Ryan sees the apprehension in his face, his eyes wide and round as saucers. “If you told them, they know now, it won’t work-”

“I’ve got it handled, Gavin,” Burnie repeats, voice low and soothing. “Just slow down, okay? It’s all fine. It’s all gonna be fine.”

Gavin stares at him a moment longer, breathing heavily - then Burnie takes him by the shoulders and tries to turn him towards the others.

“Come on, let’s talk to them-”

But Gavin shakes his head furiously.

“Need to debrief,” he says, voice oddly tight.

“Gavin.” When Geoff speaks, Gavin flinches, and while he looks over at Geoff he’s staring at a point just above his head, not meeting his eyes. “Gavin, we need to talk - nothing bad, nothing bad, just - we need to sort this out. But come here first, let me see you’re okay-”

He steps towards them and Gavin presses into Burnie’s side.

“I need to debrief,” he repeats, something mechanical in it.

Geoff stops short, halfway between Burnie and the others, looking stricken.

“Gavin,” he repeats, almost pleading. “Gav, I’m so sorry, please, just - come here, the last few weeks I missed you so much - we all did - you left so suddenly and we didn’t know… let’s sort this out, please.”

Gavin’s staring at him and Ryan can’t work out the look on his face. Jack’s stepping forward too now, but Michael and Ray stand frozen by his side. When he looks down at them, Michael looks like he’s about to cry, his arms wrapped around himself. Ray, by contrast, is smiling at Gavin, seeming overjoyed to see him, even if he’s hanging back for now.

“Gav…” Geoff’s voice cracks and Ryan realises that for all his anger earlier, here and now with Gavin finally in front of him - and it hits him suddenly that the others haven’t see him in nearly a _month_ now, nearly a fucking _month_ \- he’s about to cry.

Gavin’s eyes go even wider. He looks very pained, and for a moment Ryan thinks he’s going to go to Geoff - but then he turns back to Burnie and stares up at him helplessly.

“Burnie,” he whispers, and it comes out like he’s begging for help, “Burnie, I… I need to debrief, Burnie-”

“Geoff,” Jack says quietly, and goes up to him, taking his wrist gently and tugging him back. “Come on, let him sort himself out. There’s plenty of time to talk later.”

Geoff looks upset, but he lets Jack put an arm around him and lead him back. Gavin looks relieved when they start to head back into the building, but he stays practically clinging to Burnie’s side, only letting go of him to turn and wave goodbye to Blaine, who looks more serious than Ryan’s ever seen him as he leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh baby a triple


	8. Chapter 8

It feels very strange to all be gathered in the conference room for the second time that night. They do a lot of planning in the small hours but somehow, tonight, it feels different - something more serious about it, and a heavy exhaustion bearing down on everyone. It’s already so late that it will be dawn soon yet everything feels displaced, out of time - like this particular night has been some sort of odd dream that they all have yet to wake from.

Gavin sits alone at one end of the table, Burnie opposite him. The others hang around the sides, spread out - a conscious decision, Jack ushering them all apart so they wouldn’t look so much like a jury. So they’d be less _threatening_.

It hardly matters. Gavin’s eyes are fixed only on Burnie, not so much as glancing at the rest of them. Someone brought him a jacket at some point - Kdin, Ryan thinks, he wasn’t paying much attention - it’s draped around his shoulders, and there’s a steaming mug of tea set on the table next to him. By all accounts he should look like some victim, some client of theirs they’re gently questioning to find out who they need to fuck up - were it not for how he’s sitting up ramrod straight, at-attention, so focused and intense that it’s almost scary. Ryan’s never seen him like this before, not even when he’s been on important jobs. It’s like looking at a stranger.

“Gavin?” Burnie prompts, gently, leaning forward. For all that he’s angry at the other man, Ryan can’t help but appreciate how in-control he still seems of all this. It’s what Gavin needs right now - what they _all_ need, despite themselves.

Gavin takes a deep breath. When he speaks it’s oddly formal, almost robotic, and from the upset little twist at the corner of Burnie’s mouth Ryan can tell that no matter how classified this secret program thing is, this isn’t something Burnie’s ever asked him to be, either.

“On September 18th I returned from an undercover mission, having been out of contact with the others for several days,” he says. “Upon my return I met Denecour, who informed me of the discovery of a number of double agents in the crew. I was unsure if this list contained my own name. In case it didn’t, I considered it vital to eliminate all the other double agents, as they knew that I was one of them, and revealing this to the rest of the crew could be damaging.”

Burnie’s nodding, and Gavin bites his lip, sudden nervousness flickering across his face.

“Perhaps it was impulsive, and I admit it was poorly planned to reveal to Caleb that I had killed one of them,” he admits, “But at the time I was only thinking of your orders to eliminate anyone who had the potential to compromise the operation who was not a member of Rooster Teeth or a civilian.”

Burnie nods, smiling reassuringly, and Gavin’s shoulders relax a little before he continues.

“I killed three targets who were aware of my status as a double agent for Glasgow,” he says. His voice becomes hesitant. “However… while doing so, the rest of the Fake AH Crew confronted me and I realised they were already aware of my status. They weren’t convinced of my guilt yet, but the mission had serious potential to be compromised and in line with the discovery protocol I left and attempted to make my way to the nearest safehouse.”

It’s odd to hear his point of view of things, especially in such an impersonal, formal way in the silent conference room. It makes it sound like everything he did was deliberate, a carefully calculated, logical action - but all Ryan can remember is how scared he looked when they found him, the desperation in the way he fought off the guards and ran. He can tell from a glance at the others’ faces that they’re thinking it too.

“While on the way there,” Gavin continues, “Glasgow sent men after me and I was forced to divert across several states, which prolonged the time taken to get to the safehouse. However, just after Glasgow’s men located me, Haywood - who’d been tracking me - found me-”

Ryan can’t help but jolt at the mention of his own name. Especially the impersonal way Gavin refers to him. _Haywood_. Like he’s some agent on an official document - like it’s a fucking _Wikipedia entry_ \- Burnie must notice his discomfort, because he interrupts Gavin softly.

“Call him Ryan, Gavin.” It’s gentle, not a chastisement, but Gavin swallows hard. He still doesn’t look at Ryan.

“Ryan found me,” he says, too quietly. “At… at the time the others were still unaware of my identity as one of your triple agents. Since I hadn’t been able to contact you I wasn’t sure if you were willing to tell them yet or not. Being… afraid, that I wouldn’t be able to… to lie to them if I faced them, I thought it best to try and evade Ryan and get to the safehouse-”

He breaks off, catching his breath, and Ryan can feel the others’ eyes on _him_ now. He shifts, self conscious, wishing suddenly he had his mask. He has no idea what’s showing on his face but the bruises Gavin left there speak as much as anything.

“That was why I attempted to run from him,” Gavin says, so softly they can barely hear him. “And when he stopped me, why I tried to fight him off to get free.”

Burnie nods encouragingly. Ryan can hear Geoff, breathing heavily across the room - can see Michael’s fingers twitching anxiously against his folded arms.

Gavin takes a deep breath. His voice is flat again when he continues.

“He overpowered me and started taking me back here. Along the way I continued to keep the secret, as you hadn’t ordered me otherwise-”

“But by now there was no fucking way you could continue to spy for us,” Michael cuts in. His sudden, loud voice makes Gavin jump, and Ryan glances over at him - Michael can be hard to read, and right now he _looks_ angry, but he knows from experience that that’s nearly always a cover from something else. When Michael’s genuinely angry, you sure as hell know it.

“Why not just tell Ryan, tell _all_ of us, since we knew something was up anyway?” Michael continues. “Why let us continue to think the worst of you?”

“I thought the other triple agents’ identities might still remain intact,” Gavin replies, stiffly, “Even if _I_ had to leave the crew, Burnie could have made me disappear and no one had to know about the program-”

“What,” Michael demands incredulously, “Just fucking _disappear_ without explaining anything to us, without…”

He trails off, sounding upset. Gavin’s breathing heavily, and he doesn’t answer. Just ignores Michael and takes a moment to compose himself.

“After Glasgow attacked us again,” he continues stiffly, “I had an opportunity to escape from Ryan. I took it and returned to the safehouse as per orders. I… I had to leave, I didn’t think I could keep the secret if I was faced with the whole crew again. Once I arrived there you contacted me almost immediately to say that Blaine was on his way to bring me back. And here I am.”

He trails off slightly awkwardly. Everyone’s staring at him in silence and after a moment he pulls the jacket tighter around his shoulders and then picks up his mug of tea and starts methodically downing it.

“Thank you Gavin,” Burnie says finally, and reaches out, taking his hand and squeezing it across the table. “You did well.”

“We need to debrief,” Gavin says again - _God_ , Ryan hates it, how officious and formal it sounds. Gavin in all his forms had always been relaxed - even when he was relaying information, explaining a heist, any sort of planning with them, it was always full of laughter and cheer. Involved ridiculous selfies or snarky comments about the people he’d been spying on.

Nothing about this is fun and Gavin’s weird robotic spy-mode is sure as hell not lightening the mood.

But Burnie just nods.

“This morning,” he says, eyes not leaving Gavin’s, “I returned from the meeting I’d been at. I contacted Gus, who told me about the breach in the FAHC’s security and the ensuing war with Glasgow. Concerned, I called Geoff, who told me everything that had been going on.

“When I heard that you were involved I realised what had happened. I immediately came here and told Geoff to call Ryan back in, that I had to explain what was going on. When I learned you’d escaped from Ryan I thought it best to let you make your way to the safehouse and send someone to pick you up.

“As soon as Ryan returned I decided that given the circumstances I had to reveal the truth to Geoff and the others. I also made the decision to end the program. It’s too risky now with everyone combing through their crews for spies, and with Geoff knowing the truth a lot of it’s compromised now anyway. To keep it going would be risky and only complicate matters further.”

Gavin’s eyes widen at this last part.

“You’re bringing everyone back in?” he asks, and Burnie nods.

“The program’s ended, Gav. It served us well for a long time but as we’ve seen here, well… when things go wrong, they can really fucking _go wrong_.” He scoffs out a laugh, but there’s little humour in it.

“Burnie…” Gavin sounds uncertain, and Burnie presses his hand again.

“It’s too dangerous to continue. Everyone will be pulled in from their jobs. Blaine and Barbara are already back home. I’m going over to talk to Funhaus soon; I’ve already told Willems this is happening so he’s preparing to let them know the truth. Chris and Aaron will stay in place a little longer, since they never speak to your crew anyway - there’s a particular job they’re running that I need them to finish. It’ll take a few more weeks. Then I’m pulling them too and we’ll tell everyone they used to work with. No more secrets.”

Gavin’s eyes are wide. He still looks terribly uncertain, Ryan thinks. Like he doesn’t know where all this leaves him. Fair enough; Ryan has no fucking idea either.

“Because of that, Gav,” Burnie says, “You’re released from your duties.”

Gavin just stares at him. The others watch in a rapt silence. Ryan still doesn’t quite know what it means for Gavin - for _them_ \- they still haven’t had a chance to talk about it.

“No more spying,” Burnie continues. “No more pretending, not around our own people, at least. No new jobs, even now that Glasgow’s been compromised. It seems like that situation’s gonna fight itself out here one way or another. With my crew’s support you should be able to get rid of him pretty easily, Geoff.”

Geoff just lets out an angry hum, and Burnie glances over at him. His face twists guiltily.

“I regret not telling you about all this,” he admits. “I think we need to have a big meeting - you, me, Kovic, everyone.”

“We sure as fuck do,” Geoff grunts. “I’m so fucking mad at you, Burnie, I can’t even express it right now. I don’t care if the FAHC is technically part of your syndicate, you don’t fucking make decisions about _my_ crew behind my back like that. You don’t keep me in the dark about something like this. You think I couldn’t have kept a secret? Jesus Christ.”

“I know,” Burnie admits.

“Adam isn’t gonna be fucking happy about this, either,” Geoff grunts, and while it’s not very kind, Ryan can’t help but feel a bit relieved that Funhaus is in the exact same position they are. The other crew are as close as the FAHC is and learning that one of their own was a spy will hit them hard. It’s not very nice, but at least the FAHC aren’t _alone_ in this. Someone else will know what they’re feeling.

“I know,” Burnie says again, and sighs. “But what’s done is done. We _will_ sort this out. We’ll come through it stronger. We always do.”

Geoff’s face softens a little, and he nods. He won’t stay pissed at Burnie long, Ryan knows. Geoff forgives too easily. He cares too much. At first Ryan used to think that was a weakness - the Vagabond scoffed at such softness - but he knows, now, that having allies that you genuinely care about is a greater advantage than any weapon. And even if the trust has been broken here, there’s hope that they can _rebuild it_ \- and that’s something he never used to believe in, until he met Geoff and Jack.

“Burnie?” Gavin pipes up - Burnie turns back to him immediately. His hands are wrapped around the mug, an oddly childlike gesture. “What are my orders now?”

“No orders, Gavvo,” Burnie tells him. Gavin glances uncertainly at Geoff, and Burnie reaches out and presses his wrist. “Look, we need to talk about things. Decide who you’ll be working with now, what _you_ want to do - and I’m sure you and the others have a lot to discuss.”

He looks over at them - Jack’s nodding carefully, Michael still looks uncertain - when Burnie’s eyes catch Ryan’s, he can’t help but drop his own. He doesn’t know how much Burnie knows about his own trip out to get Gavin, but he’s never been as close to him as the others are, and he feels too scrutinised under his gaze.

Gavin is just staring at Burnie. After a moment he starts to lift his tea, then lowers it absently. There’s something very lost in his face, huddled in his seat like he’s in some unfamiliar place instead of a room he’s frequently in - when Burnie notices he leans forward and snaps his fingers in his face.

“Gav. Buddy,” he says, until the other man looks up at him. “Job’s over. Not undercover any more. Where are you from?”

It seems like a very odd question, and Ryan sees Jack and Ray exchange a confused glance - but it must be familiar to Gavin, because he straightens up immediately, seeming relieved.

“My name is Gavin David Free,” he says, and there’s something lilting in the words that makes it sound like he’s reciting something he’s said a hundred times over. “I am 27 years old. I was born in Oxfordshire, England. My favourite colour is blue.”

He starts to say something else, then hesitates, abruptly - looks up at Burnie with that painful uncertainty again.

“Go on,” the man says gently.

“I…I’m in a relationship with Geoff, Michael, Jack, Ray and… and Ryan,” he says, stumbling a little - Ryan sees Michael’s shoulders jerk back, Jack bite his lip, Ray’s smile falter a little into something upset.

Gavin’s shoulders are hunched up defensively, like he thinks they’re gonna correct him - _relationship, what relationship, not any-fucking-more_ \- but no one says anything, and after a moment he relaxes. Starts sipping his tea, a lot more calmly.

“We added that part after you all got together,” Burnie tells them. He’s still got a hand over Gavin’s free one, thumb rubbing soothingly over his knuckles. “It’s grounding, with the amount of undercover work he does - end a debrief with that, we know exactly where we all stand. That we’re not pretending now, that everything that happens right now isn’t part of his cover. Glasgow thinks his real name’s something else, you know? That Gavin Free’s just a name he came up with to get into the crew.”

“Mark Nutt,” Gavin mumbles, and Burnie barks out a laugh.

“So fucking stupid. But you could sell any name, Gav.”

Gavin’s lips twitch a little, but it fades quickly as silence falls once more. Now that they’ve finished debriefing, everyone seems at a bit of a loss what to do. Gavin still won’t look at them - hasn’t so much as glanced at Ryan since they arrived. Under the harsh bright lights of the conference room, every bruise on his face and throat stands out. His wrists look particularly awful, poking out from the ragged ends of his sleeves - dark, reddened welts, patchy scabs in places where the rope really rubbed in. Ryan can see all the others just _looking_ at Gavin, taking it in, cataloguing every bump and bruise. He wonders if they’re wondering which ones _he_ put there.

(They aren’t, probably - he’s just being paranoid, but hell, _he_ can’t help thinking about it - can barely stand to look at Gavin, sitting there, wondering just how much the other man _hates_ him, if he’ll ever even talk to him again or if he’ll just want to disappear the way he mentioned before-)

It’s Ray who finally approaches, tentatively. The others watching, nearly holding their breath. They’re not helping, Ryan realises dimly, with their standing about watching every move breathlessly, like Ray’s approaching a furious lion instead of their fucking _boyfriend_. It’s only making things more awkward - even Jack seeming unable to return them to any sort of normalcy. But still they do it, as Ray gets closer, closer - Gavin looks up at him and he freezes. Opens his mouth, seems to forget whatever it was he had planned to say-

Only to finally blurt out, “Can I touch you?”

Gavin blinks a few times. Even Burnie’s watching intently by this point.

“…why would you want to?” he replies, finally. His voice quiet and flat.

Ray looks taken aback.

“I betrayed you,” Gavin continues then - and that terrible note is back in his voice, that creeping shame from the motel room after Goliath attacked them. _Deceitful, selfish_ \- “Maybe not in the way you first thought but… I still lied to you. Still kept a big secret. And I… I still agreed to be with you guys even when I _knew_ it’d come out, that it’d hurt you, that I’d be lying to you every day instead of opening up to you the way you thought I was-”

He breaks off, voice cracking, and Ryan feels like he could throw up. Because it’s coming back to him now, Gavin’s words that quiet night when their five finally became six. _You don’t know what you’re getting into_ and _you shouldn’t risk it_ and _I shouldn’t be doing this… I really, really shouldn’t._

Whatever attempt he had made to warn them, it was clear now, more than ever, that maybe some selfishness had won out - but only because by God, Gavin had _wanted_ to be with them. They’d seen him on the job and he took no chances about being discovered, he didn’t let _feelings_ get in the way-

Except this time. This time when he’d risked his whole cover by getting so close to them. _You were all so kind, I thought I could…_

Ray looks sad, but after a moment he retreats. Not in a way like he’s closing off - like he knows he hasn’t got the right words, that he’ll try again later, that he thinks it’s best for Gavin not to push. He’s holding up so well that Ryan resolves to talk to him later because holy shit is he himself _not_ holding up fine-

But Jack, _Jack_ steps forward now, like he’s been waiting to do it, and there’s a look of such caring warmth on his face that something swells up in Ryan’s chest because _he’s_ standing here uselessly, and Ray’s backed off, and Michael’s gone up by Geoff’s side now, both of them looking like they don’t know how to fix things, like they’re worried about making things worse-

But Jack does. Jack _always_ does, his relentless kindness always pushing through - he comes up by Gavin’s side, doesn’t get too close yet. And somehow, as always, he finds the words that all of them are thinking yet can’t quite express.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” is the first thing he says, and Gavin jolts a little before properly looking at him, eyes wide.

“We were worried,” Jack continues, “That Glasgow’s men might’ve got you.”

“He had a damn good try at it,” Gavin replies, tentatively. “But I’m fine. Just bruises.”

“Still. It was scary, not hearing from you for so long. We had no idea where you were, if you were okay…” Jack trails off; Gavin looks a bit upset at that. Upset and guilty, and Jack quickly moves on. “When you said you could explain, I hoped that whatever reason you gave, it’d be something that put all this to rest. And sure, it’s unexpected that this whole time you’ve had a secret mission that you’ve been keeping from us, but it’s a hell of a lot better than most of the alternatives.”

Geoff and Ray are nodding - Michael too, after a minute - Jack sounds so matter of fact about it that Ryan can’t help but for a moment, suddenly, feel reassured. _He’s right. It could be worse. The truth could be so much fucking worse._

Even Gavin looks relieved, and Jack inches closer to him.

“There’s a lot to talk about,” he continues. “But it’s late and you look exhausted, so let’s do this tomorrow once you’ve had a good rest and something to eat, alright?”

Gavin nods, and Jack hesitates before adding, “You look like you need a hug right now, but if you don’t want me to touch you that’s understandable.”

Gavin hesitates too. He looks over at Burnie helplessly, as though waiting for him to decide. Burnie just raises his hands.

“Look, buddy, it’s all over now,” he says. “You can do whatever you want.”

Gavin bites his lip again. He looks torn, but Jack’s standing there, waiting patiently, and in a sudden rush Gavin bolts out of his chair and into his arms. Jack hugs him immediately and the second the other man’s arms are around him Gavin practically melts into him. He’s shaking so hard Ryan can see it even from this side of the room. Jack’s shaking too, squeezing him tight, bending down to press kisses against his hair - “You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,” - Gavin’s face hidden in the crook of his neck but his arms wrapped around Jack like a vice.

Jack’s crying. It takes Ryan a second to realise it, and when he looks over Geoff is too - his arms wrapped around Michael, who looks a bit upset as well - Ray’s heading over to the two of them now too, leaning in to kiss Michael on the forehead before putting his other arm around Geoff. None of them go over to Jack and Gavin, not wanting to break the spell, but the rush of emotion that overcomes Ryan nearly makes his knees buckle.

Ray glances over and holds out an arm to him, but Ryan can’t move, suddenly - stands frozen, shaking hard as well, and looking at Jack he’s struck with a sudden horrible thought.

If Jack had gone after Gavin, he wouldn’t have been angry. He’d have hugged him tight the way he’s doing now. Said those lovely words to him - _are you okay? We were worried about you. Please, come home. I know you can explain. It’ll all be fine._

And it would have worked. Gavin would have come with them, reassured that they’d be patient with him. They’d’ve called Burnie and he’d have worked things out. And Gavin wouldn’t have been scared, and no one’s nose would have got broken, no one would have had a gun pointed to their head, or their wrists bound until they bled. Everything would have been _fine_ if _Ryan_ hadn’t gotten so scared. If Ryan hadn’t freaked out and gotten back into Vagabond mode and presumed Gavin guilty until proven innocent.

_You caused this_.

This whole time he’s had that urge to protect Gavin still buried deep inside. To pull him into a hug and say _I’m sorry_ and _it’s okay_ and let _himself_ acknowledge that he cares again. And it’d have been better for both of them.

But he didn’t, and here they are now - him standing alone, Ray slowly looking more upset when he doesn’t come over to them - and feeling suddenly, terribly lonely, he can’t help but feel that ever-pressing urge to _run, escape_ -

So he rises, again, and abruptly leaves the room, Ray staring silently after him.

 

* * *

 

It’s strange to be back in his own bed. _Their_ bed, technically - the big one (ie several pushed together) that they have set up back at the base. He’d walked there automatically, instead of to his own room.

It’s odd, being in it alone. Feels too big and empty as he lies, face buried in the pillow, the room too cold with the window open, the tick of the alarm clock on the bedside table his only companion. It feels too soft after all the uncomfortable motel room beds and when he closes his eyes he feels almost dizzy, like the room is spinning and rushing around him. On second thought, that might be from his head injury.

The click of the door opening makes him tense, but he doesn’t look up or open his eyes. The distracted, hysterical thought hits him that it’s Goliath, come to finish the job.

_Let him_ , he thinks, apathetically.

But there’s a gentle creak as someone sits on the bed next to him, then a warm hand settles on his back. Still he doesn’t look up, even as they pat his shoulder then start stroking between his shoulder blades. He can’t quite tell who it is until he hears them give a soft sigh.

_Michael_.

“I know you’re awake,” the other man says, finally. Ryan doesn’t answer, but he makes no effort to pretend to be sleeping, either. Michael squeezes his shoulder - the uninjured one - returns to his gentle rubbing.

“Go eat something?” he asks after a minute. “There’s soup in the kitchen.”

“Not hungry,” Ryan replies. His voice, muffled into the pillow, sounds a bit like how it does when he has his mask on. Michael sighs again.

“You need to eat,” he repeats, and it doesn’t _sound_ like him. Michael’s exasperated orders are always short barks of things. Angry-but-not-angry the way he always is. Now he just sounds worn down, voice ragged like he’s been crying.

Ryan just turns his head so he can get a proper breath in. Still facing away from Michael, eyes cracked open to look at the familiar stained surface of the bedroom wall. He really isn’t hungry, even if he hasn’t had a proper meal in a long time and didn’t stop to eat at all today while driving. His appetite fled the second Gavin escaped and hasn’t returned since. His stomach doesn’t even feel empty; it’s got a funny sort of too-full ache like he’s swallowed too much cold water, or lots of little stones.

“Go be with Gavin,” he says finally, and Michael falls silent behind him, the hand on his back stilling.

“No one’s with Gavin,” Michael replies, his voice tight. “Well, Burnie is, but… the rest of us thought it was better not to bug him any more tonight. Let him get some rest, y’know?”

“No big happy reunion, then?” Ryan mutters. Despite how he himself had fled, it aches a little to think that Gavin’s back, Gavin’s _home_ , and still none of them are with him. He wonders if that’s even what Gavin _wants_ now.

“It’s awkward,” Michael growls out, and his hand pulls away from Ryan. “I hate it.”

He’s silent for long enough that Ryan finally rolls over to face him. Michael’s sat back on his haunches, fists clenched by his sides. His face is very flushed, his too-long hair dishevelled. Here finally in the silence of their bedroom, Ryan wants to hug him. But he just sits up a bit and wraps his arms around himself, reaching up to wipe at his own face.

“You haven’t spoken to him?” he asks, and Michael sighs.

“I just said. No one’s spoken to him since the meeting.”

“He’s not upset about that?” Ryan asks, tentatively. “He might think we’re avoiding him.”

_I_ am _avoiding him,_ he thinks, but doesn’t say it out loud.

Michael bites his lip.

“I think he’s relieved, actually,” he says, though he doesn’t sound very sure about it. “Like Jack said - we’re all too tired for this right now. Let’s all sort ourselves out, get our shit together before we discuss it.”

_Discuss it._ It makes it sound so easy, like it’s a heist plan or one of their brainstorming session about ideas for the future. Like they’ll all somehow come to some marvellous, unanimous conclusion that’ll set everything right.

That’s not how it works, Ryan knows, not when so many _feelings_ are involved. Things get messy and complicated.

“I guess it was too much to hope we could just snap back to normal,” he mutters, and Michael tilts his head.

“Jack thinks we can,” he replies, carefully. “Eventually.”

“Everything fell apart so fast,” Ryan points out - Michael frowns a bit, and he feels a little bad for his pessimism. Remembers how Geoff yelled at him before, _why are you acting like this_ \- tries to amend it with a quiet little, “I don’t know.”

“You want to fix it, don’t you?” Michael asks - before Ryan can answer, he adds, “It’ll only happen if we try. If we _all_ try.”

_All._ Their glorious six. The best thing to ever happen to him. He used to think he’d do anything for them, _anything_ to keep them safe, to keep them together. Now he’s starting to worry that maybe it’s counterproductive. That by trying to fix things he might only make things worse the same way he’s _already_ made everything worse. That maybe they’re better off without him.

“I told Gavin you were angry with him,” he blurts out, instead. Needs Michael to _see_ , suddenly, just how irrevocably he’s fucked things up.

But Michael doesn’t recoil in horror or punch him in the face or any of the other rather dramatic reactions Ryan had hysterically expected.

“I figured you might’ve,” he says, instead. And sighs, running a hand over his face. “I wasn’t exactly secret about it, was I? And I… I still kinda _am,”_ he admits, “Angry, that is, but… I feel like shit about it.”

“Me too,” Ryan replies, feeling a sudden slam of relief that someone else here is feeling it, that horribly guilty _annoyance_ over the truth of what Gavin’s done.

Michael looks surprised, then his face slackens in relief.

“Oh thank God,” he says. “He shouldn’t have lied to us. I mean, I get _why_ but I can’t help how it pisses me off. But I felt like a real piece of shit for being so angry when all the others are like, _softly softly, absolve Gavin of every sin_ , like, shit doesn’t work like that, we need to face up to _everything_ that’s happened, not just ignore the things that might cause bigger issues. I didn’t wanna say anything in case Geoff got mad at me. But I’m glad I’m not the only one who feels like that.”

“No, we’re just _both_ terrible people,” Ryan mutters, and Michael barks out a laugh.

“I mean, yeah,” he says, “But we’re not angry the way we were angry before.”

That is true. That was a burning, betrayed, out-of-control anger. The sort of anger that burns things up, the sort of anger that creates shrapnel, as Michael used to say - the sort of anger that had them lashing out, wanting recompense. But this anger is different. This is the sort of anger you can talk through and get over, and it’s only in comparing the two that Ryan’s guilt suddenly deepens.

“I was horrible to him, Michael,” he chokes out, and he must look very upset because Michael’s face twists and he starts to reach out.

“Ryan…”

“No, I mean it, I was. I treated him like… like he was nothing, like I didn’t care about him.”

“It was to stop yourself getting hurt,” Michael says - Ryan’s still shaking his head, but he presses on - “I’m not saying you were right, but given what’s happened to you before, of course you were scared and pissed off. Especially if he kept refusing to explain to you why.”

The words should be reassuring but they’re still not sinking in.

_Not an excuse,_ is all Ryan can think. _An explanation, not an excuse_.

“If we try,” Michael says again, “We can fix this.”

There’s something mechanical to the words, like he thinks if he repeats them often enough it’ll become a reality. Ryan must be staring at him blankly because after a moment the mask of calm falls a little and Michael admits, voice small:

“But I’m scared.”

That’s raw. That’s real. That’s what finally makes Ryan sit up properly and reach out and take Michael’s hand, squeezing gently.

“Me too,” he says.

Michael smiles a bit, but before he can say anything else the bedroom door’s opening and the others are shuffling in. The two of them turn to look at them - Geoff, Jack, Ray - it still gives him a little jolt to notice Gavin’s missing. When they all pile onto the bed, it feels incomplete.

“Hey,” Geoff says. He reaches out, running a finger down Ryan’s cheek before leaning in to kiss him. Ryan can’t help his sudden, intense relief that the other man’s not angry at him any more. When they pull apart Geoff smiles at him and Ryan’s feeling better enough to smile back.

“Hey,” he replies.

Ray’s sprawled out at the foot of the bed. He’s so relaxed. Ryan can’t quite believe it. He can’t tell what’s happened between when he left - Ray withdrawn, pulling away - and when he returned to make Ray so damn _calm_ about all this.

“Big, serious group discussion time!” Ray announces, and Ryan can only gape at him.

Geoff’s nodding.

“Tomorrow we need to talk to Gav,” he says. “So it’s important that we’re all on the same page here.”

They all nod very seriously and very sincerely but no one actually starts _talking_ , which leaves them sort of sitting there in a very awkward silence, nodding away like a bunch of bobbleheads.

“Do we need a talking stick?” Ray demands. “Because I’m telling you, I will fetch a fucking talking stick if no one speaks up soon.”

Jack barks out a laugh.

“I love you all,” he says, which is probably the sappiest opening anyone’s ever come up with, but even so the words fill Ryan with that familiar flood of warmth. It’s such a relief he could cry. He’s felt cold for far too long. He can see the others smiling and wonders again just how Jack does it.

“I love you,” Jack repeats, “And I love Gavin. And no matter what he’s done, what he lied about - I look at him now and I can tell he’s terrified. Yes, he ran away from us. But he was scared. And like Burnie said - he loves us. That part wasn’t pretend. That’s genuine, and as far as I’m concerned that’s all we need to have a go at this.”

They’re all nodding, and Geoff claps Jack on the shoulder.

“You’re right. I need every one of you. _Every_ one of you,” he repeats, and glances over at _Ryan_ now, who stares back at him. “That’s what makes this work. This might be the toughest thing we’ve been through but I want to talk to Gavin more, get the truth out there, and move past it.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Michael mutters.

“It won’t be,” Jack says, seriously. “And God knows what Gavin’s thinking right now, but I want to let him know that we still want to be together. Because I… I missed him so much the last few weeks and I can’t do that again. I can’t have him leave, unless that’s what he really wants… I don’t know,” he says, faltering now towards the end. “But it’s _Gavin_ , we can’t lose him.”

“I sure as hell can’t,” Geoff adds. He looks up again. “Ray, Ryan?”

“I love Gavin,” Ray says immediately, and Michael turns to him - he looks as uncertain as Ryan feels.

“Is it as simple as that?” he asks.

Ray just shrugs, though he does sit up a bit, face sobering.

“Isn’t it?” he asks. “What do you expect me to say, guys? I was worried about what was going on. But now I know the truth. He _didn’t_ turn on us - he was keeping us safe. I know all about working on your own. It sucks that he didn’t clue us in, but think about it, what a fucking situation this must’ve been for him! Shit happens in this business. But as far as I’m concerned people are either on your side, or against you. And he’s on our side. And if he still wants to be with us - no one gets left behind.”

It hurts to see how much Ray’s improved. How he’s gone from being the most afraid, the most doubtful, to the one who can so simply tell whether he trusts someone or not. On the one hand, Ryan’s so proud of him - but on the other, it makes him feel like shit in comparison.

Michael’s still biting his lip. Ryan’s glad he’s talking, expressing all the doubts that he himself has, because he sure as hell can’t do it. He still can’t bring himself to speak.

“Don’t get me wrong,” he says, “I love him too. But I dunno if he still wants to be together and I - I don’t know what to say to him. It was so easy before, he was my best friend and we _understood_ each other and… it was so _easy_ and I loved that but now… I don’t know if I knew him as well as I thought and things are awkward.”

“They won’t be forever,” Jack assures him, and Michael sighs.

“Look, I’m just saying,” he says, and raises his hands. “I’m scared, but I’ll try, and if, God _if_ we can make this work I’m not about to say no.”

They all stare at him, trying to make sure it’s genuine, because the thing about having so many people is that they all have to be _sure_ otherwise even little problems can escalate. But Michael starts smiling, then, perfectly sincere - and Jack leans forward and kisses him. Michael kisses back, pressing forward and placing his hands on Jack’s shoulders. It’s a sight that Ryan missed during his time away, the others, _together_ , and as much as it warms him it also makes him feel abruptly on the outside. The others are all so _sure_ of what they want.

And, sure enough, a second later they all turn to him and he feels like he’s under a spotlight. Up on a stage facing some great audience and he doesn’t know his lines, doesn’t know the right words to say - they’re all staring at him like he’s something very fragile and he realises, with an odd detachment, that he’s breathing far too fast.

“Ryan,” Geoff begins, gently.

He reaches a hand out and touches Ryan’s shoulder, and before he even knows it Ryan’s starting to pull back.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out. “I-”

“Don’t apologise,” Geoff begins immediately, but how _gentle_ they’re all being only makes Ryan feel even more like an imposter, like _he’s_ the liar now, like he doesn’t deserve their kindness if they only knew how far he’d fallen.

He scoffs.

“Of everyone here, I should be apologising,” he snaps. “I fucked this up-”

“You were scared,” Geoff tells him. _Excuses_. “It happens.”

“It shouldn’t.”

“Don’t say that,” Jack says immediately. “Bringing him back here, all on your own, him refusing to tell you - having to look him in the eye and not _know_ \- that’s harder than anything the rest of us were doing back here. I don’t know what I would’ve done if it had been me.”

“You’d’ve done better than me,” Ryan says. “That’s for sure.”

“It’s not,” Jack replies, oddly harshly. “It’s _not_.”

Ryan remembers, suddenly, what Jack told him a while ago. That night his surface of calm finally cracked and he admitted a little of his insecurities - _sometimes it’s hard, acting like everything’s gonna be fine all the time… I get scared or worried too, y’know?_

It’s easy to assume Jack a saint. But the persistence it must have taken to maintain a facade of cheerfulness this last few weeks… it must’ve been exhausting. Perhaps Jack, too, is as furious and upset as the rest of them - he just hides it better.

But his eyes are all kindness when he leans forward now and puts a hand on Ryan’s shoulder.

“Ryan,” he says quietly, “I get it. Right now you feel like you’ve… regressed, or something, but… I don’t think you realise just how well you’ve been doing? Like, for _all_ of us, since we got together you… you really helped hold us together. You’re always so sweet and kind-”

“Not to Gavin,” he cuts in, but Jack shushes him.

“When Gavin first joined us? I don’t think you know how much of a help you were - to Michael, to Ray, making sure everyone was paid attention to, that everything was doing fine… no matter what you did, you _care_ about us, and we all know it. And I know this has all hit you hard and honestly, it was bound to happen eventually - you can’t be the strong one all the time.”

Ryan bites his lip. He can tell that Jack means the words, and the others are all nodding too - and sure, in the past he was one of the ones who took care of the others, who insisted on how this could all _work_ , but-

“And I was talking to Burnie just now,” Jack continues, “And he told me that Gavin had told him about how Glasgow attacked you two while you were on the road. You cared about each other then, didn’t you? You worked together, protected each other… do you love him?”

“Of course I love him,” Ryan replies, startled - the question’s so abrupt that he blurts it out without even having to really think about it, and Jack smiles.

“And if we could fix things, is that what you want?”

“Yes,” Ryan replies, quietly.

“Then trust that we can, please,” Jack says. His hand squeezes Ryan’s shoulder tighter. “We want Gavin back but we can’t lose you too.”

Ryan’s silent a long moment. They’re all staring at him so earnestly and inside he’s torn, unsure what to do or say. Wanting things to be right so _desperately_ but unable to see any way they _can_ be.

“I think he’s scared of me,” he blurts out, finally. It comes out tearfully. “He… he should be, I’m-”

“You’re Ryan,” Geoff cuts in, before the word _Vagabond_ can even enter the mix. “ _Our_ Ryan. Like Burnie said, dude - no more pretending. Because that’s what it was, _pretending_.”

Even Michael’s nodding.

“If you acted like you didn’t care about him on the road,” he says, “It was a mask. We all know that. I think you know that too. And I reckon Gavin understands that more than anyone, playing a role.”

Ryan stares at him. Even if he recognises the truth of the words - God, hadn’t he been trying _so hard_ to put up that violent, careless act - his guilt remains a shield preventing it from quite sinking in. After a moment, Jack sighs.

“Look, we’ll talk to Gavin about it,” he says. “But as long as we know that we all want to _try this_ , that we all want to stay together as a crew _and_ as a relationship, then at least we’ll know what to approach him with. I love all of you, and don’t want to lose any of you. And I think what Gavin’s done is forgivable. None of us are perfect but we’ve always made it work, haven’t we?”

Geoff’s staring him with such open affection that it makes Ryan’s shoulders relax, makes him almost smile the way Michael and Ray are now.

“We are so fucking lucky to have you,” Geoff says, with such frank sincerity that it makes Jack let out a flustered sort of giggle - especially when Michael goes up to him and kisses him. Jack puts an arm around him, holding him close - Geoff shuffling up to wait his own turn.

And Ray sidles over to Ryan’s side, pressing up against him. Ryan looks down at him and tries to smile, but can’t quite make it happen properly. Finally he sighs.

“How are you doing this?” he asks, and Ray’s lips twitch.

“Because you helped me so much before,” he replies, and Ryan blinks at him, surprised. Ray laughs.

“I mean it,” he says. “Back before all this shit happened I’d look at you and realise how much you’d improved. With trusting the others, letting them in, realising that just because something went wrong it didn’t mean everything would fall apart. I knew all about the Vagabond, how you’d been before. But that wasn’t the person I saw in _Ryan_ in front of me. And maybe it’s my turn to help _you_ now.”

He reaches out and takes Ryan’s hand. Squeezes until Ryan squeezes back.

“We’re all here, Ryan,” he says, softly. “We’re not scared of you. We know who you are. And we love you.”

He leans up and kisses Ryan’s cheek, and it’s such an innocent, affectionate gesture that finally Ryan can’t help but smile properly, and turn towards Ray and hug him, pressing his face in against his neck. After a moment someone else’s arms come up around him, and suddenly the others are all there too, piling in in one of the awkward group hugs that they’re still trying to figure out.

It’s still lonely, without Gavin there. It still feels like one person’s missing and it hurts that finally he’s back but he’s still not _with them_.

But after all this Glasgow business, even having five out of six together is a rare luxury, and Ryan lets himself appreciate it. Lets himself realise that, okay, even if things with Gavin are messed up, the _others_ are all here and they’re not letting him go so easily.

It’s so late by now that dawn’s already coming. The sky growing lighter outside the window, flooding the bedroom with soft grey light. But they curl up anyway, in the bed, pressing as close as they can get after so long apart. And for the first time in a long time, surrounded by most of the men he loves, Ryan manages to slip into sleep peacefully and finally get the rest he needs.


	9. Chapter 9

They sleep for too long. Or at least, Ryan does. He’s out for the entire day - groggily registers the others leave the bed. Draw the blinds. Come back in, later on - “Do you want something to eat?” Sleepy murmur - “No.” Warm bodies at his back again. Sleep some more.

No dreams.

Wake again, the next morning this time. Taste of blood in his mouth, ache in his shoulder from sleeping on his bruises, that sticky feeling that comes from spending too long under a too-warm blanket. Someone behind him - Michael. Soft feeling of the other man’s curls against his cheek. Leaning in to kiss him, gently. Everything coming back, pressing at the edges of his consciousness - _Gavin - secrets -_ but here, in the drifting peace between sleep and wakefulness, under the warm blankets with the sound of the others breathing a soothing background rush around him, all of that seems irrelevant. _Home_.

Even once they all get up, get dressed like it’s just another weekend morning, the lingering absence of Gavin is drowned out by something else. Some strange, false sense of normalcy that has them wandering out into the quiet base like everything’s fine, like nothing ever happened, like he’s just away on one of his long jobs. They know he’s not, but for now they can pretend.

Breakfast. Sizzle of eggs in the pan, sun streaming through the window like this is Geoff’s apartment, not their main base, like Glasgow isn’t still raining havoc out there. Burnt toast and orange juice and strong rich coffee. Jack slicing fruits with a quick, expert hand - _schick schick schick_ of the knife through an apple, sounds like violence - Ryan closes his eyes, turns away-

Only to feel someone’s hand on his shoulder and look up to see Ray, smiling down at him. Everything seems clearer, then, the room around him coming back into sharp focus rather than everything passing by around him in a haze of little bits and pieces.

“Okay?” Ray asks, and when Ryan nods it doesn’t feel like a lie.

The sleep did him good. Things don’t seem quite so hopeless, this morning, not when everyone’s making such an _effort_ \- not when they sit around the table and eat together for the first time in a long time, and Jack’s smiling, and even Michael keeps up conversation.

Still. Things aren’t perfect.

Despite themselves they all keep casting glances at the door leading out from the kitchen into the bedrooms, waiting for Gavin to come out.

“Is he even in there?” Ray asks, finally, when a lull falls in the conversation and they all seem to come to some shared decision to stop pretending they’re not waiting for something.

There’s a moment of silence. The plates are empty and scattered on the table before them and for the first time in weeks Ryan doesn’t feel like he’s running on fumes, like half the life’s drained out of him. Still - the sight of Gavin’s closed door down the hall sucks a little of his energy away.

“He’s in there,” Jack says, quietly. “He came out to get a drink before while we were all in bed and went back in. Hasn’t left since. I think he’s sleeping.”

“Someone should knock,” Michael says, uncertainly. “Tell him there’s food.”

But Geoff shakes his head.

“Don’t disturb him,” he says softly, and he sounds sure enough about it that they all obey. Still, Ryan can’t help but look over at Geoff. Despite how certain he seemed of their decision the other day, the other man still has weary lines around his eyes and an upset twist to his mouth. It must be weighing heavily on his shoulders, Gavin being so close to them yet still so far away. Not having properly spoken to him, even _hugged_ him since he got back.

But if he thinks it’s best to leave it - they wait, deferring to their oldest in this.

Shower. Finally properly cleaning off the grime of the road, washing his hair. Blood from under his nails. Shaves the beard that’s half-grown by this point. When he looks in the mirror the sharp edges that sing _Vagabond_ have rubbed away a little and his bruises are fading into pastel patches of yellow and green. He rubs his shoulder - the ache is duller, now.

The day drifts by.

Lunch. Cold chicken and toast and fresh juice, clean clothes on his back, Michael kissing his cheek as he walks past.

Then to the board room, for reports - Jeremy comes in, then Matt, Kdin, all the rest - looking tired with scrapes and scuffs on their faces and clothes. He listens, silent, as they talk about Glasgow and the safe houses they’ve lost, the territories he’s gained, the things he’s hit that they didn’t even realise he knew about.

It’s not all losses. They’ve taken out a good number of Glasgow’s men and are steadily pushing him back, but it doesn’t help that they still don’t know everything his double agents have told him. That’s in the reports, too - Lindsay’s been on interrogations, apparently, working her way through the rest of the people they brought in.

Everyone looks tired. But now that Burnie’s back and has brought more people in to help them, it seems like the tides are turning in their favour. Ryan can’t wait to just deal with this once and for all.

He’s still so tired that Geoff insists on him staying back at the base another day, even when all the rest of them go out. Kiss from Michael as he leaves to go get more weapons stocked up. Kiss from Jack when he heads out with Matt and Jeremy to plan an attack to reclaim a territory Glasgow took from them. Kiss from Geoff when he heads out with Lindsay to interrogate another of the agents - “Let me come, it’ll scare them.” “No, stay here.” - doesn’t argue.

Ray stays back with him; he doesn’t have a job until later that night. They play Halo mindlessly for a while - it takes some time until the last of the tension finally leaves Ryan’s shoulders. After so long on the move it’s hard to sit still.

“I went back to my flat,” Ray says eventually, when they hit a loading screen.

Ryan looks over at him, confused, and Ray glances over at him and smiles.

“When you and Gavin were both gone. Jack and Geoff stayed here at the base but I went back to my flat. Wouldn’t stay here with them, even when Jack asked me to. I wanted space, I guess, or… I couldn’t be around them, not when I wasn’t sure what was going on with Gavin. Sounds dumb, right? Just because you two were gone doesn’t mean I wasn’t still with the rest of them. Then Michael comes knocking at the door, fresh from a hit with Glasgow, and tells me you told him to take care of me.”

“Oh,” is all Ryan can say - he’d forgotten it, the instruction that had slipped out so easily when he was talking to Michael on the phone.

“Yeah,” Ray says, and huffs out a laugh. “I was a bit pissed off - wanted to be alone and… Geoff and Michael, they were drinking a lot and you know I don’t like that, not when _you’re_ not around at least so I’m not the only one sober. But he was determined to stick around, even when I shut the door on him.”

“Ray,” Ryan can’t help chiding, because he remembers how upset Michael had sounded on the phone that day.

“I know, I was being an ass. But he just sat there on my doorstep being all pathetic until I let him in again and I properly _looked_ at him and…” he trails off, shaking his head again. Gives another wry smile. “I guess I realised it went two ways. I can’t just… leave, when things are going bad, I can’t just say I don’t want to be around you guys and not realise how that affects _you_ \- I guess what I’m saying is, I wasn’t the one that needed taking care of that day and me pulling away like that? It wasn’t fair on you guys. Now that we’re all together like this, we need to realise how what we do affects each other. Especially since there’s so many of us.”

“Is this some sort of life lesson,” Ryan begins, and Ray scoffs again.  
  
“Not really. I mean, I get it, Ryan, I really do. You’re upset and the last thing we want is to push you into anything you don’t want to do, and I guess I’m also saying that Gavin needs to see that too - that you gotta look at the big picture, at what’s happening with _all_ of us. But sometimes it takes leaving for a while to realise it. You know? So if you need to leave, if you need some space… you can go home and I’ll explain to the others.”

Ryan can’t help but smile at the simple offer. But honestly, going back home alone isn’t what he wants, even if it’s scary to be here, to try alongside the others. But he’d rather be here with them than on his own.

“Thanks Ray,” he says. “But I think I’m fine right here.”

He grins, and after a moment Ray smiles back and leans in and kisses him gently.

Dinner. Michael comes back, tired but smiling when he sees Ryan. Then Geoff - fresh from a shower, hair damp and curling and with that particular exhaustion in his features that Ryan knows comes from interrogations. Jack, who tugs Geoff into a hug when he sees him, murmuring something in his ear that Ryan can’t catch.

Gavin’s door is still ominously shut.

“Where’s Burnie?” Ray asks as they eat - Thai takeaway, one of the closest places to the base that they trust and something that’s become synonymous to Ryan with the others, with _home -_ “He said any more about this triple agent thing?”

“He’s back at RT’s main base,” Geoff replies. “And he hasn’t, yet. I think he’s working out how to break the news to Funhaus.”

“Not much fun for them once they find out,” Ray mutters, and they all sort of sigh and look over at the door again, no one eating any longer.

“He can’t stay in there forever,” Michael points out.

Geoff shakes his head. “No, you’re right - it’s been all day, I wanted to give him space, but… you know Gav, he won't make the first move. We gotta tell him what we decided on.”

Naturally, they all turn to look at Jack, but even he falters, looking suddenly nervous.

“What, even you’re too scared?” Ray demands, and Jack raises his hands defensively.

“I just - don’t want to rush into talking to him if we’re all in a mood. We left it too long, now it feels like whatever we say will make or break this, y’know?”

“We should all talk to him,” Geoff says, but no one moves.

Ryan’s pushing noodles around his plate in nervous silence. He’s been on-edge on and off all day, afraid of running into Gavin in the kitchen, in the bathroom, in the corridor - has no idea how the other man will look at him. What they’ll say to each other.

As it is, eventually no one makes a move, and they pack up their meal in silence and return to the bedroom together. They’re doing their own things - Geoff on his phone sorting out last minute things, Ray prepping for that job he has to go out to do, Ryan massaging Michael’s shoulders where he’s lying sprawled in the bed-

When Jack pops back into the room. He’d just gone out for a second to get something, but there’s something frantic in his face now as he hurries into the room and hisses, “He’s out!”

They all stiffen immediately, Geoff dropping his phone, Ray putting down the gun he’d been cleaning.

“Gavin?” Geoff asks, and Jack nods frantically.

“He’s in the kitchen,” he replies, and they all rush out.

It’s almost comical, the way they sneak down the hall and peer their heads around the kitchen doorframe, like they’re children in a cartoon, creeping out to get a glimpse of Santa Claus.

Sure enough, Gavin’s standing with his back to them, waiting for the kettle to boil. His hair is clean but dishevelled, an old hoodie that he stole from Michael a long time ago hanging off his shoulders. It’s such a familiar sight - coming out here to find him making a late night cup of tea - that Ryan aches.

“Someone go talk to him,” Michael hisses.

“Wait,” Geoff whispers.

At the sound of their voices Gavin starts to turn around, and in a moment uncharacteristically dramatic of him, Jack yanks them all back behind the wall. They stare at each other, eyes wide. God, Ryan could laugh - or cry - it’s ridiculous and tragic all at once, how scared they are of talking to their own damn boyfriend.

What is there, after all, to be scared of? How could things possibly get _worse_? Perhaps, he thinks, the others still can’t quite wrap their heads around the truth, around the fact that it might not be the Gavin they thought they knew when they finally do talk to him. And that’s why they’re putting it off. He’s had a week to get used to the idea, he’s more scared of how _Gavin_ will look at _him_. He’s not sure which is worse.

The kettle finishes with a loud bubbling noise and a beep, and they hear the clink of a spoon in a mug.

“Back, back,” Jack suddenly hisses, furiously, and ushers them all to the bedroom again. They stand there, huddled together, peering through a crack in the door as Gavin trudges down the hall with his mug of tea, and back into his room. But he doesn’t shut the door - they watch, silent, pressed so close together that Ryan can feel Geoff’s quick breathing, his chest rising and falling against his side.

He must be in there at least fifteen minutes. They watch the whole time, waiting. Ryan can see Jack mouthing silent words to himself, trying to work up the courage to go out and speak to him, probably - but before he can, Gavin suddenly emerges again.

He’s dragging a suitcase.

“What the _fuck_ ,” Michael hisses, and before they know it Geoff’s opening the door and marching out.

“Gavin,” he calls out, desperately - Gavin freezes where he was turned to head off down the hall.

“Geoff,” he replies, voice very small as he turns to look at them.

He’s shaved too, and without his beard he looks younger, eyes huge and owlish. His bruises are fading as well, and there’s more colour in his cheeks after getting some sleep, but the way he’s standing - carefully apart from them, arms wrapped around himself - makes Geoff falter even if he looks ready to grab Gavin and hug him.

“Where are you going?” Geoff asks finally, and Gavin bites his lip.

“Um… back to my flat, I thought.”

“You don’t want to stay here?” There’s raw hurt in Geoff’s voice now and Gavin looks torn.

“I… I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“We wanted to talk to you,” Geoff continues - the rest of them have moved up behind him now, and while they’re trying not to flank him in a way that makes Gavin seem outnumbered, they can’t help all looking to Geoff to lead them, to _fix this_ the way he always does.

_Leaving,_ is all Ryan can think, hysterically, _he’s leaving again._

“We want you to stay here,” Geoff continues. “We want to talk about this and fix it, we… we want you back, Gavin, we’re not angry - not really - we want things to go back to how they were.”

For a moment, Gavin looks like he’s going to cry - a flash of something crossing his face, a mix of disbelief and _hope_ \- but it quickly fades into something distressed.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he chokes out.

“We do,” Geoff insists. “We’ve discussed it and we’re all on the same page - we can talk this out, work out where we’re all at. We want to know about what you’ve been doing and… and we’re just glad that you’ve been on our side the whole time, no matter what else you did-”

“You don’t get it,” Gavin repeats. He’s let go of the suitcase now but he’s breathing heavily, voice rising, distressed. “You know… you know why I ran? Why I didn’t tell you,” and he glances at Ryan, then, for a split second, “Even after you’d found me out, why I _couldn’t_ tell you the truth? Like you said, Michael, there was no way I could _continue_ to feed info to Burnie, so why not just tell you? _Why not_?”

They watch him in silence. Ryan’s chest feels tight again, and he can’t help thinking of how he broke down and cried in front of Gavin and still, _still_ the other man wouldn’t tell him the truth - how there’s still something bitter about that sitting ugly and resentful at the back of his mind.

Gavin’s shaking his head slowly now.

“Because I thought after all that, you wouldn’t want to be with me anyway,” he croaks. “I thought it was all ruined, so better to keep you safe by at least keeping the whole operation secret, so the other triple agents could keep working, keep protecting you. You still want to be with me? You don’t _know_ me - don’t you _get it?_ I’ve lied to you. I lied to you since I got here. I kept lying to you once we were together. I was… I was _selling information on you_ , maybe not to harm you, but I was still _doing_ it. I ruined operations that we planned together. I lied to you about where I was going so I could meet with Glasgow. I was loyal to Burnie over you guys. Can you really just _forgive_ all that? You don’t know what you’re _saying_.”

“We can,” Jack says, softly. “We discussed it-”

“In one night? Gavin cries, and laughs, hysterically - “In one night, you can’t weigh up all the variables. Look, you… you want to put this behind us, you want to forget it all - but you can’t just _ignore_ it, Jack. God, I thought we could, and look how it all played out. It was shitty of me the first time to let you add me to the relationship when I knew about all this. And it’d be shitty of me now to do the same thing _again_ when I know, I _know_ you haven’t properly thought about this. Because if you had, you’d realise just how awful I’ve been, what a fucked up thing I’ve done here and you sure as shit wouldn’t say _forgive and forget_.”

Something about that hurts. Because maybe parts of it are true, maybe Ryan still has doubts, but under all that there’s still that constant, pulling tug. The words that never left, that it sounds, now, like Gavin doesn’t believe. _I love you_.

And the fact that at one point in this whole sorry business Gavin actually got scared that they’d hurt him to get information out of him floods back in now, makes him feel sick - _don’t you realise how much we care about you?_ It doesn’t seem like he does, here and now-

Even as Ray steps forward, jaw set and stubborn.

“Maybe we would,” he says, and Gavin’s face flickers again, torn.

“You don’t get it,” he repeats, like the more he says it, the more they’ll somehow believe it. “You don’t get it, I betrayed you - _they don’t get it_.” And these last words are addressed directly to _Ryan_ , accompanied by a desperate sort of stare. Like he thinks of all of them, _Ryan’s_ the only one who feels that way. Like Ryan’s the only one who _wouldn’t_ forgive him-

It’s like being hit with a train. He actually flinches back, horrified at being singled out like that, and Michael reaches out and squeezes his arm. Ryan barely even registers the touch, just stares back at Gavin, eyes wide. He doesn’t know what the other man can see in his face. He sure as hell can’t read Gavin’s, except that he looks upset.

“Gavin,” Jack says, quietly. “Do _you_ not want to be with _us_? Because if… if that’s the case, you can just tell us and we… we won’t push you into staying if you don’t want to now that we know.”

“No,” Gavin blurts out, so quickly that it’s obviously true. “No, that’s not… that’s not what I meant. I just…” He bites his lip, glances at Ryan and Michael again, still standing clutching each other. “I can see that not all of you are on board with this and I… I really think you need to think about it more.”

“I think we _all_ need to discuss it,” Jack corrects him. “All of us, _together_ , so we can all bring up any concerns.”

“We don’t have time for that with Glasgow,” Gavin says quietly.

There’s a horrible silence. Ryan doesn’t know what to think. After a second Gavin reaches for the handle of his suitcase again, but Geoff starts forward and grabs his wrist.

“Don’t go,” he blurts out. Gavin winces, and Geoff quickly shifts his grip higher up his arm, holding more loosely. He could pull away if he wanted to. He doesn’t.

“Please, don’t go.” Geoff sounds too close to tears and it’s breaking Ryan slowly. “Don’t leave again. You can’t just… you can’t just _go,_ Gav. Not like this.”

Gavin’s staring at him. He looks like he’s going to cry and Ryan can tell, then, that he wants more than anything to seize Geoff and hug him the way he did with Jack before. But something’s holding him back - the same fear, perhaps, that has Ryan hesitant - he’s struggling with it, refusing to _let_ himself.

“We need your help with Glasgow.”

It’s Michael who blurts it out - and somehow it’s the right thing; Gavin's head snaps up and Ryan realises it suddenly.

_An excuse_. It’s not selfish for him to stay with them if he has an excuse like that.

_He wants to stay. But he thinks he can’t let himself._

_Isn’t that how you feel too?_

“Yeah,” Gavin murmurs. “Yeah, of… of course. I’ll stay. I have a lot to tell you about him. It’d be more convenient if I was here in my room close by.”

Geoff slowly lets go of him, but Ryan can see the cogs turning, can see him working this all out - Jack too, and Ray - once again, it seems, they’re all on the same page, everything realised but going unsaid.

For now, it’s enough.

“Okay,” Geoff says. “Okay.”

Gavin walks past them awkwardly, dragging his suitcase back into his room. Then emerges, lingering in the doorway with one arm clutching at the other.

“Want a drink?” Geoff asks finally, helplessly, and Gavin nods too quickly.

“Think I need one,” he murmurs, and doesn’t pull away when Geoff puts a hand on his shoulder to lead him into the kitchen.

 

* * *

 

It’s funny, after that. Things go back to a weird sort of normal.

The problem is, they don’t talk about it.

The problem is, they _don’t_ sit down and have that discussion the way Jack wanted. It’s the same problem with how they first got together - with how they acted when they were all interested in Gavin, but hadn’t added him yet - they leave everything unsaid. At least for now, until Glasgow’s sorted with.

All that knowledge is just left hanging there between them. The truth about Gavin. That they want him back. That he thinks they’d be making a mistake if they did. But they don’t act on it.

And in the meantime - they keep working.

Ryan starts going on the hits against Glasgow, defending their most valuable territories, reclaiming ones he’s taken over. In between, he goes back to his flat or Ray’s most of the time, though he still reports back to the base.

(And he hasn’t spoken to the others still, really, not _properly_ ; they know he went all Vagabond on the road but they don’t know how _far-_

And he hasn’t spoken to Gavin alone since it all happened-

They don’t talk about it.

They should.)

Michael is the busiest on jobs, leading a lot of the strikes against Glasgow’s own bases, chasing down the man himself a couple of times (never to any avail; even with Gavin’s info he’s slippery and constantly waiting for them to attack anyway). He’s out so often, and so tired when he comes back, that none of them want to stress him out further by bringing up the whole situation when he gets home.

(And there are things they know about him too - that he’s still unsure about this. That he hasn’t spoken to Gavin alone either, that the two of them are barely _looking_ at each other-)

It’s fucked up, but they're literally all so busy that combined with Gavin’s reluctance, they just - leave it.

By the time any of them finishes for the night, either the others are still out, or they’re so tired that they don’t want to have such an important discussion when they’re not in the right headspace for it.

So here they are.

Gavin’s still living at the base, and he’ll talk to the others about stupid things like what groceries they need to buy, or if anyone’s done the laundry, or stocks in the armoury. But he’s still quiet and wan, and even if he’ll lean into a friendly touch from Ray or Jack, or an arm around his shoulders from Geoff when they’re drinking on the couch in a rare moment of downtime - none of them actually know where his head’s at. If he considers himself still in a relationship with them, since he never _initiates_ those touches, and none of them want to instigate anything more without knowing.

God, they need to _talk about it_.

But still - Ryan’s kind of guiltily glad that they haven’t.

He’s still scared of what will happen. Still has no idea what to say to Gavin, no idea where they stand with each other, no idea of how things will play out when they _do_ talk.

So he continues, going about his own routine - work, pop in to see the others, go home to sleep-

And dodge _Jack_ , who seems desperate to talk to him but who he suddenly can’t face because he’s _sure_ the other man is gonna try and convince him to be the one to step up and confront Gavin. Jack gets weird ideas like that. Like somehow because _he_ was the one to spend the most time with Gavin lately (bad time. Very, very bad time) he can be the one to fix things.

Not likely.

So Ryan dodges his calls, or starts conversations with the others when Jack’s in the room, and goes back to his own flat to sleep so Jack can’t corner him at the base when the others aren’t around. He feels bad about it, and he _does_ miss spending time with him, but he just - can’t handle the other man’s expectations right now, and he knows if Jack does get him alone he’ll somehow convince him to do whatever he wants. He has a way of doing that.

And so it goes, for the rest of the week.

 

* * *

 

During that time, Geoff takes Gavin in for questioning.

It’s not like with the rest of the double agents, in one of their interrogation cells with a harsh light and Lindsay or Geoff standing over them with a knife, ready to force the information out of them if necessary.

They do sit in one of the holding cells, for quiet and privacy more than anything - but they each have a coffee next to them, and Lindsay’s sitting by Gavin’s side with her laptop covered in cat stickers, typing up everything he says. And Gavin _talks_ \- openly, easily, slowly enough for her to transcribe and answering any questions Geoff has without hesitation.

Ryan watches through the double-mirror.

He doesn’t intend to. He goes into the observation room to see if Michael’s there, but then he overhears the start of what Gavin’s saying and freezes, unable to _stop_ listening even if he keeps telling himself he’s only gonna stay a second longer and then leave.

And God.

It’s hard to hear.

Gavin’s talking freely, more than any of the other agents has, but it’s shocking, how much he’s leaked to Glasgow over the last few years.

Even now, Ryan can see Burnie’s hand in all this. Gavin talks about jobs he sold out, but then changed at the last minute so Glasgow’s plans wouldn’t work - effectively betraying the team to keep his cover up, then saving them again on Burnie’s orders to avoid losses. It’s a complex play and one that Ryan would never have been able to pull off - yet Gavin talks about it the same way he talked about his escape earlier in the debriefing. As though it was the easiest thing in the world, a series of simple, rational decisions.

But there are jobs that were ruined, too. Deliberate losses under Burnie’s command and Gavin’s execution. Jobs that lost them weapons, territories, even allies. One that ended up with Glasgow’s men killing a regular mercenary hire of theirs. Another that resulted in Michael winding up too close to an explosion and burning his arm - he’s had worse, but it was still a close call-

(And Ryan remembers how worried Gavin had been - “My boi, are you okay?” - how he’d fussed over Michael back at the base, and hovered while Jack bandaged him up, and kissed the wrapped wound gently after and insisted on Michael taking painkillers instead of a beer, how Michael had laughed and got him in a headlock and given him a noogie while insisting that “I’m not that injured, if I was injured could I take you down like this?”)

There are even jobs which went wrong that Gavin himself got injured on, when he was the one who helped sabotage them in the first place. Geoff asks if that was deliberate - voice tight - “You didn’t try and get yourself hurt to throw off suspicion?”

“God no,” Gavin replies immediately. “I never planned for _any_ of us to get hurt. I felt terrible when they did. Collateral damage,” he adds, miserably, “Burnie never liked it either but… part of the job, innit? But I was always careful, on the ones we did let Glasgow have, to make sure that you guys weren’t directly in the firing line.”

It all seems so precarious. And even if he can see, from all the stories Gavin’s telling, how Burnie was actually pretty in control of the flow of information Glasgow was receiving and in doing so, was keeping the Fake AH Crew from pretty much collapsing due to the sheer amount of double agents-

There’s just a level of deceit in it all that’s _astounding_.

Because he thinks of Gavin, sitting in the boardroom during briefings, cracking jokes and laughing along with them, all the while planning to sabotage the whole fucking thing.  When they thought he was on their side, he must’ve been working out which bits to tell Glasgow, which to leave out - must've been thinking that the job was doomed before it even began, or that someone they were working with was on Glasgow’s payroll too.

Even if it was for a good cause, this whole time they’ve had absolutely _no idea_ what was running through his head - and that makes it so hard to trust him. Even to _look_ at him, now, and see him as the same person.

(It doesn’t help that he looks different too, now - he’s wearing his usual getup, expensive button down and skintight jeans and sunnies hooked into his collar like it’s a disguise, but he hasn’t got the make up on, his hair is browner and flat and it’s an odd contrast of two worlds colliding, Crew-Gav and Their-Gav and it’s throwing Ryan off somehow-)

Gavin recites everything flat and rote, and Geoff listens pretty calmly, but at one point he sniffs hard and turns away and through the mirror Ryan realises with horror that his eyes are red and teary. And he can tell, even from through the glass, that Geoff’s thinking it too-

_Who are you?_

And maybe, thinking just as Ryan is-

_Can we really come back from this?_

So many tiny lies that built up into big ones. Secret meetings. Times when they looked at Gavin and thought they knew what they were seeing but _weren’t_. And the thing is, Gavin _knows_ so much about Glasgow - all his bases, all the people in his crew, he’s on a fucking first name basis with the guy and knows most of his weak points. Things that he never told them that they could have used against him-

At least now, with Burnie’s backup, they have a proper shot at ending him.

Ryan leaves before the end of the meeting, unable to watch any more. But still - that day is a turning point, it seems, because when he sees them later on Geoff’s avoiding Gavin and drinking more than is probably appropriate for the time of day, and Gavin looks upset even as he retreats back into his room alone again.

When the others return that night they have a minute, in the board room, when Geoff hands them the transcripts and they read them in silence. Ryan too, not wanting to admit to Geoff that he was listening in. Geoff himself sits quietly at the head of the table, looking upset. The others do too, the more they read. Even Jack isn’t smiling by the time they finish, staring around at each other in some shared sullenness.

“It was easy…” Geoff’s voice cracks a little and he swallows, clearing his throat before continuing. “It was easy to say that everything was fine before I actually heard from his own mouth just how much he lied about. Now it’s… it’s hard to wrap my head around.”

No one answers, but Ryan can see the agreement in all their faces. The tension in the room feels like a physical pressure, crushing him back into his seat.

“What was true?” Geoff chokes out then. The question that’s hanging heavy on all their minds.

For a moment no one answers.

Then Ray, in his seat, stirs.

“Where are you from?” he whispers, almost to himself, and it takes a moment before Ryan realises what he’s referencing and thinks about it.

_My name is Gavin David Free._

_My favourite colour is blue._

_I’m in a relationship with Geoff, Michael, Jack, Ray and Ryan_.

“The things that matter,” Ryan pipes up, looking at Geoff - when everyone turns to him, seeming surprised, he gives a tight smile. “His words.”

Geoff nods slowly.

“Is that enough?” he asks then, and another silence falls.

“Yes,” Jack replies finally, earnest as always. But no one else agrees - yet - even Ryan is still trying to sort it out in his mind, just who Gavin is, how much of what he did was tied up with his identity as a triple agent and how much was just _him_. He used to think that was simple, took pride in being able to _know_. Now it all feels like tangled wool, knotted in places, fraying apart the more he tries to get it undone.

The silence is awkward. No one will really look at each other. A second later Michael’s phone buzzes on the table, making them all jump.

“Jeremy’s here,” he says, and frowns. “I gotta go.”

Of course. They’re still too busy. So he leaves, and with only four of them there it feels wrong to keep discussing it, and they split apart, still without talking about it.

 

* * *

 

Jack is a cunning son of a bitch.

He actually sets a trap for Ryan.

Like really, he might as well have put a loop of rope on the floor to grab him by the ankle and leave him dangling upside down from the ceiling, the way he goes about _communicating_. Not even fucking joking.

The bait: a text sent from _Geoff’s fucking phone_ saying for Ryan to meet him in the board room for a new assignment.

Then Jack apparently decided it’d be a great fucking idea to crouch down behind the table behind the big potted plant in the corner, and enlist Matt to come and lock the door from the outside as soon as Ryan gets inside.

And then, yay! He pops out of hiding. He might as well yell _surprise_ at this point. What the actual fuck.

“The look on your face is kind of incredible,” Jack informs him, after the moment of rather awkward silence in which Ryan stares at him and Jack apparently doesn’t know what to do with his hands.

“What the _hell_ , Jack,” Ryan demands.

“We need to talk,” Jack says, snapping back to serious again, and Ryan just stares at him a moment later before spinning around on his heel and marching for the door.

It’s at this point, of course, that he realises it’s locked from the outside. Matt waves at him cheerfully through the glass window and Ryan gives him the finger before turning back to Jack.

“This isn’t funny,” he says, and Jack shakes his head.

“No,” he agrees, “It’s not. You’ve been avoiding me.”

“So you’re gonna _trick_ me into talking to you?”

“Apparently it’s the only way you _will_ nowadays,” Jack replies, and Ryan can hear the little undercurrent of upset in it. He feels awful, suddenly, for all the times Jack’s been trying the last few weeks, and Ryan hasn’t exactly made a secret of the fact that he’s dodging him.

“It’s not like that,” he says softly. “It’s not that I didn’t want to be around you, I just…”

“I know,” Jack says, and smiles, but it’s not a very happy smile. “But we can’t keep avoiding this.”

Ryan doesn’t even have his mask on, because he’d been in bed when he got the text and Geoff (or who he thought was Geoff) had said it was an ‘informal job’. So he’s here in civvies, not even his face paint on, and he feels way too vulnerable suddenly, here alone with Jack, hating how he actually _wants_ to cover his face from someone he’s so close to.

“What do you want then?” he asks. It comes out flat, almost harsh. He doesn’t mean it to. “To convince me to talk to Gav? You could start by talking to him yourself. You’d do it better.”

“I want to know where your head’s at,” Jack begins, but Ryan’s already hearing himself snort.

“Where the fuck do you think it’s at?”

“I don’t know,” Jack says, close to snapping now. “That’s why I want to know! Look,” he adds, with a more forced calm now, “We _need_ to all talk about this, but the problem is, no one actually _wants_ to, do they? Deep down everyone’s too scared. If we really wanted to, we’d’ve made time by now. It’s like… we all want to think that this will just sort itself out somehow, the way everything else has. But it _won’t_ , not if we don’t talk about it.”

Ryan stares at him. Jack sounds genuinely upset, and he knew the other man was getting frustrated with their lack of progress, but getting called out like this when he’s on his own and already feeling a bit attacked isn’t really helping.

“And I need your help to make that happen,” Jack continues then - the words Ryan was dreading, _help, how the fuck can_ I _help,_ “If the others see that _you’re_ ready, they’ll start getting themselves in gear too.”

“I’m not ready!” Ryan says, rather hysterically. “ _None of us are_ , Jesus fucking Christ, can’t you see that maybe this doesn’t end happily? That we’re just prolonging the inevitable?”

It’s what he’s been thinking since seeing the others read the transcripts; he didn’t mean to admit it and even now he hates how the words - God, he doesn’t even know if _he_ believes them, except that he can’t get them out of his head - make Jack flinch a little.

“Don’t think like that,” he replies, voice quiet and tight. “Nothing’s inevitable.”

“It was inevitable that the truth would come out,” Ryan snaps, and Jack shakes his head.

“Not like _this_. Gavin could’ve told us by choice one day, after we’d taken down Glasgow.”

“You think we’d’ve been less angry if it had happened like that?”

“Who can tell,” Jack snaps, “But what happened happened! And now we just have to fucking deal with it. Don’t let circumstances affect how we work through this here-”

“Circumstances?” Ryan cries, and something snaps then, he’s just too tired, too on-edge from this dragging out for so long. “You want fucking circumstances? Circumstances is everything I did to him out there. You want to hear the _story_ here, Jack? It’s not fucking pretty. I hunted him down like he was one of the fucking bounties I used to take. I threw him around and put a gun to his head and tied him up and _forced_ him to come back here, he didn’t want to. I dragged him around with me and treated him like he was our enemy. I _told_ him he was our enemy. I told him Michael was mad at him. I told him he’d ruined everything, I told him he’d been pretending about _everything_ , even loving us.”

Jack looks pained and Ryan scoffs out a harsh laugh, unable to meet the other man’s eyes. _So now you don’t want to hear it? Where my head’s at? Here it is_.

“I hit him, Jack,” he says. “I scared him. I was so fucking rough with him that he got upset and begged me to stop. That is the _circumstances_ we are dealing with here! I couldn’t trust him,” he says, and scoffs again, shaking his head. “And now he doesn’t trust me.”

The silence in the room is stifling.

“So there’s your fucking circumstances,” he spits, and Jack shakes his head. He steps towards Ryan, but Ryan steps back - Jack doesn’t let up, backing him against the wall, getting too close.

“And how the hell do you think _this_ looks to him right now?” Jack demands. It’s not what Ryan was expecting - some part of him still thinking Jack would chastise him, tell him he ruined everything - “He runs away from you and now you’re avoiding him? He probably thinks you hate him.”

Ryan just blinks at him, startled - he’d been so wrapped up thinking Gavin was angry at him that it hadn’t quite sunk in that it probably went both ways.

“He thinks we’re _all_ going to hate him,” Jack continues. “That’s why he doesn’t want to have the group discussion. He doesn’t believe that when we say we want to be with them, you - and probably some of the others - mean it. He thinks it’s all part of an act. You get that, right?”

Ryan is still staring at him, and Jack bites his lip.

“He thinks we want the show of it,” he explains. “The six of us still together, pretending everything’s all fine, when underneath we all know it isn’t. He thinks it won’t work out, that there’s no foundations and it’s all just a performance for the sake of us _feeling_ like things are okay.”

“Is it not like that?” Ryan asks, numbly, and Jack shakes his head.

“Of course not! Not unless we make it.”

“What do you want us to do, then?” He gets what Jack’s saying, but the other man’s lack of a reaction to everything Ryan just admitted to him is pissing him off a bit - _can’t you see, can’t you_ see _what I’ve done -_ “Have a big heart to heart? You think _that’ll_ fix things?”

“I think we need to start showing each other some love here,” Jack snaps, finally, it seems, cracking a bit in frustration, “ _Including_ Gavin. And step one is you and Michael getting your damn asses in gear.”

Ryan goes pale with rage. He opens his mouth to snap back but before he can, there’s a furious knocking at the door and they look over to see Ray, staring at them through the glass.

‘ _Locked_ ,’ Ryan mouths, and Ray looks down at the door before unlocking it from his side and striding in.

“What the fuck’s going on here?” he demands.

Ryan wonders what it must’ve looked like from outside. Jack crowding him against the wall, himself probably looking furious - Jack’s stepped back, now, seeming surprised to see Ray.

“An intervention, apparently,” Ryan replies flatly, and takes the chance to push off the wall and make for the door-

When Ray seizes his arm as he passes, pulling him to a rough stop. Ryan stares at him, so taken aback that he doesn’t even pull away. Ray’s staring up at him, something fierce and almost angry in his face.

“I don’t know what the beef is between you two,” he says, glancing between Ryan and Jack. “But it needs to fucking stop. You know who needs your help right now? Michael. He thinks Gavin’s mad at him ‘cause he hasn’t spoken to him once. I know Gav’s not, so stop thinking about yourselves and start thinking about the others for once.”

“Gavin’s not angry at Michael,” Ryan says, stiffly. “He’s angry at me.”

“No he’s not,” Ray snaps, and shakes Ryan’s arm. “Pull yourself together and tell Michael to talk to him. Or tell Gavin to talk to Michael. Or better yet, both.” He glances between them again. “Your choice who gets to tell who.”

Jack looks startled, but Ray’s interruption - and the fiercely determined look on his face - has the tension fizzling out of the room. Ryan’s shoulders slump, and he realises guiltily just how exhausted Jack looks as well. His anger fades as suddenly as it sprang up.

“Come on guys,” Ray says then, more gently. “We’re not Lego here.”

“...what the fuck does that mean?” Ryan asks, after exchanging a quizzical glance with Jack.

“You know,” Ray insists. “A tower of Lego can stand all on one block as long as it’s stuck to one of those flat board things. A tower of cards needs a base. All six of us.”

“That is…” Ryan trails off, shaking his head - Jack scoffs next to him - “The weirdest fucking metaphor I’ve ever heard.”

“Excuse you,” Ray says, offended.

“But can a tower of cards stand on one piece of Lego,” Jack pipes up - Ray swats at him irritably.

“Depends if it’s a big piece or a little piece,” Ryan shoots back, teasingly.

“For the sake of the metaphor it’s all little pieces,” Ray attempts. “So no, it can’t-”

“Okay but imagine this,” Jack says, “What if in the tower of cards, the base is just one card but it’s lying down flat?”

“Oh my God,” Ray says, and shoves them both towards the door. “Just - go deal with this already, alright?”

Ryan can’t help but laugh, and Jack is too - the teasing has diffused the situation, swept him back into what he loves about his boys. Ray squeezes his shoulder and Ryan glances over at him gratefully.

Except a second later, Jack says, “I’ll talk to Michael.”

Fucking cheater.

“You can’t call dibs,” Ryan begins, but Jack’s already heading out of the room with a smile that’s far too smug for Ryan’s liking. Ryan’s own smile has faded a little, because he can’t _not_ do his part here - that’s not fair to the others - which means he’ll have to talk to Gavin, or disappoint Ray.

And he can’t do that. Not after all the other man’s done for him, these last few days. But Ray is looking at him reassuringly, his hand very warm on Ryan’s shoulder, and after a moment Ryan lets out a sigh.

“Okay,” he says, and Ray smiles at him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> starlightsruby on tumblr drew this [amazing fanart](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/137673862364/starlightsruby-its-me-ryan-gavin-cries) for the story, thank you so much! <3


	10. Chapter 10

As Ryan expected, actually working up the courage to talk to Gavin is easier said than done.

On the one hand, luck is on his side. Gavin’s doing a lot of work running over the interrogations of the other double agents, helping Lindsay sort through what information they’ve given is true and what’s bullshit, and it means that he’s spending a lot of time around the base.

On the other hand, Ryan’s a giant fucking coward.

He spies Gavin sitting at the kitchen table that evening, pushing last night’s leftovers around his plate, and stands in the corridor for about twenty minutes just staring at him, mouth dry, hands sweating. Thinks, _in a minute I’ll talk to him._ And then counts down from sixty but doesn’t move on zero. Thinks, _when he finishes that drink, I will_. And doesn’t. _When the clock hits exactly eight._ Doesn’t.

In the end, the second Gavin gets up Ryan bolts back to his own room, and stands there, heart pounding. Listens to Gavin’s door shut down the hall a few moments later.

 _Coward,_ he thinks, but his stomach is churning and he can’t bring himself to walk over and knock on Gavin’s door.

The next day Jack’s shooting him pointed looks, even if Ryan knows that he himself hasn’t spoken to Michael yet. He runs into Gavin on his way out to the car park - they make awkward eye contact, and Ryan sees Gavin tense, and he opens his mouth to say something even if it’s just “have a good day,” but nothing comes out and Gavin turns the other way to go downstairs a moment later.

 _Next time_ , he keeps thinking, _next time I’ll talk to him, next time_ -

And so the procrastination continues.

It’s two days later, and he’s just killed a squad of Glasgow’s men, when things finally come to a head.

He’s just finished debriefing with Geoff and is tossing up whether he wants to stay here for the night or go back to his apartment (he’s thinking _here_ because he’s starting to feel bad about what happened with Jack; he misses him a lot and the thought of curling up in bed and falling asleep with his arms wrapped around him makes him ache with how much he wants it, how much he wants to be just _them_ without this whole drama hanging over everything)-

He’s heading through the living room of their base, which due to all the business is cluttered with crates of ammo and body armour anyway, when he freezes.

It’s dark. There’s only one lamp in the corner on, and everything is quiet because no one except them comes up to this floor, although he knows things are busy downstairs with people coming in and out, still doing overtime to hold Glasgow off. He thought he was alone, which is why when he turns and notices someone on the couch, he nearly jumps out of his skin.

And then stops where he stands because it’s _Gavin_.

He thought the other man had gone home. But he’s fallen asleep where he was sitting, head slumped against the back of the couch, chest rising and falling evenly. It’s a position that’s gonna kill his neck when he wakes up, and now that Ryan’s noticed him he can hear his soft breathing, seeming to fill the whole room. It takes a moment before he realises he himself is barely breathing at all; he shakes himself and before he knows it, he’s stepping forward.

Gavin looks exhausted. It’s obvious both from the fact that he fell asleep in such an uncomfortable position as well as the dark smudges under his eyes, the strained gauntness of his face even though he’s asleep.

Still.

He looks better than he did when they were on the road. The bruises have all faded, his hair is clean and neater than usual, and when Ryan darts a glance down to his wrists where his arms are loosely wrapped around his chest, the injuries from the ropes have healed up too.

He realises that he’s standing too close, and has been staring for too long. He should leave, now-

But suddenly he can’t bring himself to.

It’s easier here, in the dark and alone and with Gavin asleep, to not feel as scared. To look at the other man without having to worry about Gavin noticing and making eye contact. To let himself realise how much he _misses_ him, now that Gavin’s so close, and not tense and hidden away the way he has been lately.

And then, because fate hates him, Gavin wakes up.

He startles upright with a suddenness that makes Ryan jump back, heart skipping a beat. He’s standing to the side of the couch and Gavin doesn’t notice him - he’s staring straight ahead, shoulders rigid, breathing heavily now. After a moment he lets out a groan and covers his face with his hands.

 _Bad dreams_. They’ve all woken up like that often enough for Ryan to recognise it, and it comes automatically for him to step forward.

“Hey, hey - you okay?”

Any nervousness he had about confronting Gavin is tamped down by the fact that a) it’s creepier just to stand there watching him, and b) they’ve done this routine so many times that it feels like instinct. One of them jerking awake, the others moving in to reassure them that whatever they were dreaming off, it wasn’t real. That they’re safe, here, with the others.

Gavin’s head snaps around. He looks terribly upset, Ryan notices - eyes red, almost haunted. They widen as he realises who spoke to him - but when Ryan moves forward on autopilot, arms outstretched, Gavin moves in instinctively as well, leaning into his touch, letting Ryan wrap his arms around him.

He must still be half-asleep because otherwise Ryan is certain he wouldn’t be doing this. His own heart is pounding and he can’t tell which one of them is shaking but this is _it_ , this is what he hasn’t had in weeks, _months_. Gavin, in his arms again.

He thinks he might cry, suddenly.

Something in him wants to squeeze Gavin tightly to him and never let go. But he’s still careful, still hesitant, and he holds him gently, one hand coming up to run down his back. After a moment Gavin’s breathing slows and stills - then his whole body stiffens, and Ryan does too, and they pull apart awkwardly as Gavin seems to realise exactly who it is comforting him.

“I’m sorry,” Ryan blurts out, before Gavin can say anything.

Finally, they look at each other. No masks, no face paint, not in some displaced motel room. Gavin looks terrified, but not of Ryan, he realises instantly. Of the whole situation, and probably the silence between them - and he can see himself, reflected in the other’s eyes, his pupils huge in the dark room - he looks scared too.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, and swallows - it’s been so long coming that the words sound odd now that they’ve finally been said out loud. “Gavin, I’m so sorry, I… I didn’t know.”

“Of course you didn’t know,” Gavin replies, softly. “I wouldn’t tell you.”

“No, I… the way I treated you… it wasn’t acceptable.” The shame floods in and he shifts back from Gavin a bit. “I’m sorry. No matter what I thought you’d done, there… there was no reason for me to get so violent with you. I was angry and I let that take over but it’s not an excuse. I don’t feel good about it. I should have trusted that you’d never hurt us. I shouldn’t have called you our enemy.”

He means it, _God_ he means it, but he’s so nervous that the words come out stuttered and awkward. Even so, Gavin watches him, eyes wide, before swallowing audibly.

“I don’t mind that you slapped me,” he says in a small voice. “I hit you first, after all. But I… I didn’t like it when you pointed the gun at me, and I was scared when you slammed me into the wall.”

Ryan opens his mouth to apologise again. _I’m sorry,_ it’s all he can say, it’s all he has to offer - but before he can, Gavin holds up a hand.

“I’m sorry too,” he says, and Ryan’s mouth snaps shut. “I’m sorry for punching you and I’m sorry for running away and I’m sorry for all of _this_ , this whole mess, it’s… it’s my fault. Glasgow’s attacks, and everyone being so upset, and lying this whole time - joining the relationship without being honest - that’s on me.”

Ryan swallows. Any residual anger he may have had over Gavin’s betrayals is hard pressed to survive when he hears how small and sad Gavin’s voice is. The guilt in there. The same guilt he’s been feeling.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Gavin continues, and looks away. “Any of you. I just…”

Wanted this. _Needed_ this. Ryan understands. Weren’t there times when he felt the others didn’t deserve the Vagabond? Especially at the beginning, before he had himself more under control. But still he couldn’t bring himself to leave.

“It’s not your fault,” he begins, softly, but Gavin shakes his head.

“Yes it is,” he insists. “Don’t pretend like it isn’t because it _is_. Maybe I had reasons for doing it, maybe I was trying to keep you safe, but don’t act like deep down you all don’t blame me. After all this we should just be _honest_ with each other, right?”

Ryan doesn’t know what to say. The revelation of Gavin’s lies has made them hesitate, yes, but Ray doesn’t blame him. Jack certainly doesn’t. Geoff still loves him.

 _I still love him_ , he realises, because now that they’re actually _talking_ he’s realising just how much he missed this, missed _him_.

“We’re alive,” he says, quietly. “No one’s actually a traitor. We’re all alive, we’re all here, we’re all _together_. Those are the factors. From there - things can get put back together. No matter if we’re angry with you for what you did, no matter who’s to blame - there’s _that_. There’s still that.”

“Alright, Pollyanna,” Gavin replies, and his smile is tight, but his shoulders have relaxed a little. “Look, for what it’s worth - I don’t hold it against you, what you did bringing me back here. I was upset about it but I get why you did it. I get how it must have looked. Like I said, I… I never _meant_ to hurt you. But that doesn’t mean that I didn’t. The Vagabond is your mask. Guess we were both playing the role that we needed to.”

He’s looking at Ryan steadily, almost _concerned_ \- and it hits Ryan, then. Gavin’s not scared of him. Not in this moment, at least. The relief is crushing and he hangs his head for a moment.

He doesn’t know what to say to reassure Gavin right now. All he can do is accept _this_ , that offer of forgiveness, and hope that Gavin accepts his in turn. And it returns to him then, his original mission, and he can’t quite think of anything else to say, so:

“I think you should talk to Michael,” he says.

Gavin looks surprised, but doesn’t argue.

“He’s worried that things won’t be the same between you two,” Ryan continues. “But that was real, wasn’t it? All the fun you used to have. How close you were. Wasn’t it?”

“It was,” Gavin murmurs, and Ryan nods.

“Go show him that.”

“He… he might not want me to,” Gavin says, uncertainly, but Ryan reaches out then and tentatively puts a hand on his shoulder. Gavin doesn’t flinch, or pull away. It’s a start.

“Go and try,” he urges, and Gavin swallows, but nods.

“Okay,” he whispers. “Guess I have to at some point.”

“Hey.” Ryan squeezes his shoulder. “No matter what happens, you… you can’t leave. Even if you just stay here and work with us - please, sort things out with Michael. He needs his friend right now, if not his boyfriend. Don’t let him think you’re angry with him because you’ve been avoiding him.”

Gavin nods, lips pressing together tightly. After a moment Ryan’s hand drops from his shoulder and Gavin startles a little, then hesitantly reaches out and touches Ryan’s wrist before pulling back.

“We should both get some sleep,” he says, and Ryan nods, straightening up.

“Yeah - yeah. You staying here?” he asks, and Gavin nods.

“Are you going home?”

“I guess I might as well stay too,” Ryan says, and a flicker of something like a smile crosses Gavin’s face before he turns and busies himself stretching his neck and straightening the couch cushions. Ryan shuffles quickly out of the room, heading for his own bedroom.

They’re not quite okay yet. He still isn’t quite sure where they stand, or where they’re going, or how things will be between them in the future.

But the apologies are out there, and the fact that they could look each other in the eye, could _touch_ each other and have a conversation and Gavin wasn’t scared, and Gavin knows now that _he’s_ not angry-

It’s enough of a start that for the first time since this whole sorry business began, he’s not dreading seeing Gavin in the morning.

 

* * *

 

As it turns out, Gavin is the one to come to him next.

It’s been two days, and Ryan’s feeling remarkably good for once. He hasn’t really seen Gavin since the other night, but for once he’s not second-guessing their interactions, worrying that maybe he was mistaken and things didn’t go well. Things _are_ going well. Ray’s been buzzing all day because Gavin hugged him when he came in to work, and Jack’s been smiling - Ryan’s not sure what about, but it’s a good sign - and Geoff greeted Ryan this morning with a big kiss, and while he wouldn’t say what it was for, it was nice to be with one of his boyfriends in a situation that was purely _happy_ , not undercut with something desperate or sad or even just the need to be reassuring.

And then Gavin comes up to him, knocking on the door of what used to be the six of them’s shared bedroom.

It’s mid afternoon. Ryan just got back from a job and he’s got a couple hours before he needs to meet with Geoff. He isn’t sure what Gavin’s been up to, but it’s obviously been work-related because when he materialises in the doorway his hair’s all gelled up and he’s got one of his expensive shirts on. Not quite as done-up as the golden boy used to be, but enough that it probably means he was out on crew business.

“Hey,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets. He sounds nervous, but not scared.

Ryan looks up from his phone. He was sprawled on the bed and feels suddenly self conscious, scrambling to sit up.

“Hey,” he replies, and there’s a moment where he’s suddenly acutely aware of how long it’s been since Gavin was in this room with all the rest of them. “Um, did you… can I help you with something?”

Gavin bites his lip, then nods.

“Will you take me to Subway?”

It takes a moment to register.

“Subway,” Ryan repeats incredulously.

“Yeah,” Gavin replies. He folds his arms, unfolds them a second later, and then doesn’t seem to know what he’s doing with his hands.

Ryan has no idea what’s going on here. Gavin’s started eating meals with them again but he hasn’t been out one-on-one with anybody except for work business.

“You want me to buy you Subway,” he repeats, still thinking that he must be misunderstanding this somehow.

“I’ll pay for it,” Gavin says. “But you need to order it for me.”

“...why?”

“Because the whole ordering process involves a level of interaction that I’m not in the mood for,” Gavin says. And then adds, rather crossly, “It’s 2015, why do they not have screens? Did you know that they’ve got screens at McDonalds now? You can full choose everything you want in your burger. I really wanna see Dan try and use one. I bet he’ll still manage to bugger it up somehow.”

Ryan can’t help his startled laugh. Gavin trails off, smiling almost shyly, and Ryan nearly trips over himself in his haste to scramble out of bed, to not fuck this up.

“Sure,” he says, reaching to grab his wallet. “I’ll take you to Subway.”

 

* * *

 

It feels a bit surreal to drive out with Gavin. They don’t talk in the car, but Gavin turns the radio on and the music is pleasant. The silence isn’t uncomfortable even if Ryan occasionally gets flashes of the last time they drove together, Gavn tied up in the seat next to them. The rain-spotted windscreen, the grey sky, the endless highway.

It’s different here. Bright and sunny and suburban as he takes Gavin out to the closest Subway.

If Gavin _is_ angry at him for what happened, apparently his idea of revenge is forcing Ryan to order the most complicated sandwich he’s ever heard of. There are so many things in it. He wants two different types of _bread_. Ryan manages to confuse the poor cashier twice and right when he gets to the end, the sauce, and thinks he’s in the clear, he manages to flub the word _Chipotle_. It’s embarrassing but he can also hear Gavin giggling where he’s sat at the table, so he can’t bring himself to be too annoyed as he leaves the unfortunate Subway worker a big tip in the jar before heading over to join Gavin.

His suspicions that the ordering was all some sort of revenge-ploy are only heightened when Gavin appears to have no idea how to even eat his sandwich monstrosity. It’s too tall. He ends up opening it and picking the fillings out with his fingers, while Ryan rolls his eyes and tucks into his own lunch. They eat in silence for a little while. Again, it’s not uncomfortable; the place is filling up a little as lunch hour hits and the song playing over the store radio is pleasant. It doesn’t feel like a date but it’s also not _awkward_. It’s just them, as they are now, he thinks - stagnating in something unsure, but not at _odds_ with each other.

When Gavin finally reduces his sandwich’s insides enough to be able to close it, he wipes his fingers on a napkin, looks up at Ryan, and sighs.

“So,” he says, and Ryan lowers his own sub.

“So,” he replies. Time to actually talk about things, it seems. Okay.

Gavin rubs his eyes and sighs again.

“I’m really out of it right now,” he admits.

“Tired?” Ryan asks, but Gavin shakes his head.

“No, I just… I’m feeling really out of it. Like I don’t know what I’m doing, I never do. I still don’t know if we’re all actually still together or not.”

“Neither do I,” Ryan replies, honestly. That’s been the big issue lately. Gavin doesn’t know, he doesn’t know, _none_ of them know, really, who considers Gavin still a part of the six. Who doesn’t. No one _wants_ to think about it. That’s the problem.

“Are you gonna consult and decide my fate?” Gavin asks. “I mean properly, not like you did last time.”

 _Last time_ was _properly_ , Ryan can’t help but think. Gavin was the only person who didn’t think it was.

“It’s not like that,” he replies, softly. “Even if we wanted to - which we _don’t_ \- we couldn’t just kick you out. A break-up’s gotta be mutual.”

“Oh,” Gavin says. Something uncertain crosses his face, and he picks up a paper napkin, twisting it between his fingers, tearing it into little shreds. “So we… even when I left, the first time… you guys didn’t consider that a break-up? When you all thought I was a traitor… we were still together when you…”

He breaks off, looking upset. Ryan’s appetite has disappeared now as he shoves his own food away from himself.

 _When you blamed me. When you_ hurt _me._

“I’m sorry,” he tells Gavin again, helplessly - but Gavin shakes his head.

“No, I… I get why you did it,” he insists. “Even if we were together… that must’ve made it worse, right? It must have hurt that I didn’t tell you _why_. I know I would have been hurt if it was the other way around. But I’m… I’m most sorry for running away that last time, when you left me untied. I was just scared about coming back here, I… I needed to know Burnie would be there. I just had no idea what to do; I wanted you to know the truth so much but I couldn’t risk the operation. But I should have chosen you guys.”

Ryan bites his lip. That hurt, but he’s past being angry about it.

“The fact that I had you tied up in the first place…” His eyes flicker to Gavin’s wrists again, but he can’t see them; he’s wearing long sleeves. “I hurt you. So _I’m_ sorry.”

“Who’s got the crooked nose here?” Gavin asks, attempting to lighten the mood, but Ryan won’t be distracted. They need to get this out from between them.

“I mean it,” he insists. “I don’t want you to be scared of me.”

Gavin hesitates.

“I’m not scared of you,” he says, but it’s not like last night, he has to _think_ about it. And sure, when they’re sitting here together, talking nicely - when everyone, including Ryan, is trying so hard to be gentle with Gavin - that’s fine.

But what if they get back together and a job goes wrong and Ryan loses his temper? What about if he and Gavin get into an argument, or they’re having a stressful time?

If he shouted at Gavin, would he flinch? If he was the one helping with the interrogations, not Lindsay, would Gavin still be wondering how far the Vagabond would go to get the truth out of him? That’s what makes him sick to think about. That’s what he wonders if _Gavin’s_ thinking about. If maybe he’s just saying that to make Ryan feel better, because _he_ feels guilty.

“Are you lying?” he asks Gavin. “I can’t tell. I… I thought I used to be able to, but… now I don’t know.”

That hurts more than anything. He always thought he could read Gavin, before. Now it’s like they’re back to the start.

Gavin doesn’t seem happy about it either.

“That upsets me,” he admits, “But I know it’s my fault for lying. I’m not, now. I’m really not scared of you, Ryan. I know when it’s you and I know when it’s the Vagabond and I know that the Vagabond’s _not you_.”

“You’re scared of the Vagabond, then,” Ryan says, and Gavin looks away.

“Remember when I first joined the crew and I acted like…” he trails off. Pulls his sunglasses out of his pocket and sticks them on the end of his nose, grins that crooked half-smirk, lounges back in his chair like he’s chilling on some fancy yacht instead of sitting at a plastic table in Subway. It’s a sudden transformation that makes Ryan startle, always surprised by just how easily Gavin can turn his acts on and off.

It’s obvious what this one’s meant to be. The rich, douchey persona that Gavin puts on for most crew business. The one that he first met, the one that he saw a hell of a lot of, until Gavin started to relax around them and he saw beneath the surface.

“Yeah,” he says, and Gavin drops the act, leaning forward again and taking his glasses off.

“I acted like that,” he says, “Because I wasn’t meant to get close. My job was to become a trusted part of the crew, sure, but I figured I could do that without you guys ever having to actually properly get to know me. But then… then I got close to Geoff, and then I met _Michael_ and we just clicked, and… and so I dropped it. I still used it when we were working with other crews, but around you guys I didn’t keep it up. Right?”

“Right,” Ryan agrees, unsure where this is going.

“I guess what I’m saying is, that wasn’t me. Same way the Vagabond’s not you. Does it come in handy when dealing with other people? Sure, that’s why I still keep it up. Same way that sometimes being the Vagabond is useful to you. But you guys know it’s not me. And _we_ know that the Vagabond’s not you. Yeah, there are _parts_ of you in it. Maybe parts that you don’t like. But that’s the same with any mask.”

Ryan doesn’t know what to say. After a moment Gavin sighs and picks up his sandwich again.

“I spoke to Michael,” he says, abruptly.

“How’d that go?” Ryan asks, grateful for the change in topic.

Gavin shrugs.

“Good I think,” he replies. “I dunno. Like I said, I feel kinda out of it? But I asked him to drive me home, and he did, and then I asked him to come up and he wasn’t sure but… I dunno. We had dinner at my place and played some games and I think he knows I’m not mad at him now. We didn’t talk about anything important but… it was fun. Like it used to be.”

“Like it should be,” Ryan murmurs, and Gavin nods.

“He’s too careful with me,” he says. “Like he’s worried if he so much as snaps at me, I’ll get upset. But I get why. I know it’s my own fault.” He scoffs. “It’s actually funny how you guys are acting like I’m the one who got the most hurt out of all this because _Christ_ is that the opposite of what should be going on here.”

Ryan has no response to that, just stares at Gavin until the other man looks a bit upset.

“I mean it,” he insists, and sighs. “Just - everything is my fault. And it’s on me to fix it. I’m worried that every time I do or say something you guys will just be… questioning if it’s real, if it’s sincere? And that’s stressful, that’s why I… why I’ve kinda been avoiding you a bit. It’s exhausting.”

It’s an admission that sort of breaks Ryan a bit, because _God_ is this fucked up. Because it’s true, it _is_ hard to be around Gavin now without wondering what’s going through his head. But it’s also heartbreaking how it’s affecting all the rest of them. How Ray was so fucking happy this morning just because Gavin _hugged_ him - how Michael’s holding himself in check just so that Gavin will know he’s not angry with him - everything about that is the opposite of what they all want to be.

And he realises, suddenly, why Jack was so desperate to get them to talk. This is one situation where waiting will only make things worse. Make things start to fester until they come to an unhappy head.

“You keep saying we blame you,” he says slowly. “That’s not true. I know it might be hard for you to believe but it _isn’t_. Please, please talk to the others soon. They all want to get back together. And now they’re worried that the reason you’re putting it off is because _you_ don’t want to.”

Gavin bites his lip.

“I want to,” he says softly. “But I mean it when I say you all need to think very, very hard about all this. If you’d had a proper discussion, then Jack would have come to me already. He hasn’t, so I can only assume that you guys _haven’t_ talked about it. And I can’t do anything until you do.”

“Okay,” is all Ryan can say.

He’s been avoiding it, that talk with all the others. He was scared. But now, today, he feels suddenly determined to just put an end to all this. It’s been a rough time, feeling alternately like things are moving too fast, or not at all - just wallowing in all this misery and tension. But there are good days - like today - days when it feels like everything can fall back into place if they only work towards it.

Gavin looks surprised by how readily he agreed to it. He hesitates for a second, then seems to steel himself.

“I need you to be honest with me,” he says. “Yes, I realise the irony. But please, Ryan, just tell me - don’t worry about the others or anything - are you still mad at me? Just _you_. Not the others. And not mad about me selling you out to Glasgow, since you know that wasn’t true now. Mad about me refusing to tell you. Mad about the secrets I’ve been keeping for three bloody years. Mad about me being loyal to Burnie over… over the people I loved. _Love_.”

Ryan swallows, feeling suddenly nervous. But honestly, the answer comes naturally. No matter how angry he was before - no matter how that anger lingered even after he found out the truth - he’s so tired, and so ready to be _done_ with all this.

So ready to have Gavin _back_ , especially now that the other man is sitting across from him, and they haven’t touched the entire time they’ve been out here together, and he just. Wants to have his boyfriend back again.

“I’m not mad,” he says quietly, and it’s the truth, and he knows Gavin can tell. “Not any more.”

Gavin looks at him for a long moment. Ryan looks back. Finally Gavin swallows and whispers, “Okay.”

"I’ll talk to the others,” he says.

Gavin nods.

“I trust that if they have any concerns you won’t let them jump into something just for the sake of things being fine,” he says. “I know _you’ll_ do that for me. Please. Because I can’t… I can’t come back if I’m not sure you all want me there. For your sake, as much as mine.”

Ryan nods back, and after a moment Gavin gives a small smile.

“Thank you,” he says, and Ryan doesn’t know what to say. But he can’t help feeling like things turned out well, despite everything - like maybe they just needed to sit down and get things out before any of them could move on - and it’s strange to think that out of everyone, it’s _him_ Gavin picked to have this talk with. Not Jack, who so wants things to be better. Or Geoff, who he got closest to first. But Ryan, Ryan who had been quite certain that Gavin would never want to be with _him_ again.

He’s not about to complain.

They leave and head back to where they parked and Ryan automatically reaches forward and opens the car door for Gavin, who pauses, looking up at him. Ryan stares back and for a moment he thinks Gavin’s going to hug him. His lips part a little and he shifts his arms up, eyes never leaving Ryan’s - but after a moment he seems to think better of it and quickly gives a nod of thanks and climbs in instead.

Ryan shuts the door after him and pauses, biting his lip, feeling suddenly, oddly _disappointed_ -

But it doesn’t matter, he thinks. Things will be fine soon enough. He’s about to talk to the others and if Jack’s right, that’ll give them the momentum they need to fix this.

 

* * *

 

But before he gets the chance to, of course, Glasgow attacks.

He must have gotten the location of one of their little private air bases from a double agent at some point, because he’s apparently made it his life’s mission to destroy all their helicopters. It actually is a big problem for them, because that’s their main means of getting around quickly, and it’s a bitch to get new ones.

Michael was meant to take a squad out there to defend them, Geoff joining him a few hours later with reinforcements when he heard things weren’t going so well. But the two of them drag themselves back into the base at two in the morning, bloody and beaten and cursing about all their choppers being destroyed.

“Some massive guy was there,” Geoff’s ranting. They’re down in the infirmary and Geoff’s got a glass of whiskey in hand, gesticulating wildly even as Caleb hovers about trying to patch him up. One eye is completely swollen shut, half his moustache has been scorched off, and he’s bleeding in numerous places on his torso. It’s hard for Ryan to look at, where he’s standing next to Ray watching them in a concerned silence. Geoff might still be in walking condition but only _barely_ , and he hasn’t seen him this beaten up in a while. “Ugly as fuck, bald as an egg, strength of a thousand horses and all that.”

“Fucker was big,” Michael contributes.

He’s sitting on the other infirmary bed while Jack stitches up a deep gash on his shoulder. There’s dried blood caked all down his side and like Geoff, he’s covered in assorted bruises.

Ryan’s aching inside at the sight of both of them hurt. They’ve all been worse for wear lately with constantly having to go out and defend their territory, but this is different, somehow. His blood’s boiling and he knows it’s partly because of fucking _Goliath_ \- it has to have been him.

“Goliath,” he says then, and everyone in the room turns to him. “Huge guy? Bald? He’s one of Glasgow’s men. I shot him,” he adds, and Geoff snorts.

“Well, you didn’t fucking kill him because he seemed fit as a fiddle when he was firing grenades off at us.”

“Grazed him,” Ryan adds, and gestures at his side. “Enough to scare him off. He attacked Gavin and I when we were on our way back here. Broke into our motel room, tried to kill us - he was after Gav. Guess now that Glasgow’s realised he’s back here with us, he’s got Goliath helping to attack us instead.”

“You guys got out lucky,” Caleb pipes up, taping a bandage over one of Geoff’s worse scrapes and then handing him a damp washcloth to clean away the blood. “Sounds like most of the men you took out with you didn’t.”

“Probably our biggest loss so far,” Geoff concedes, and knocks back the rest of his glass. “Well, fuck.”

“I’m just glad you two are okay,” Jack says, and Michael looks up at him and gives a small smile before leaning in to kiss him. Next to Ryan, Ray stirs; he looks concerned, which is a bit of a fucking understatement.

Geoff sighs again, beginning to morosely clean himself up. The bruises on his face, dark around his eyes, are making him look exhausted. They might be winning against Glasgow so far, but it’s wearing all of them down and Ryan doesn’t know how much longer they can go on.

The infirmary door opens and they all look up. Gavin slips in, worry written clearly across his face. He looks relieved to see Geoff and Michael, his shoulders slumping a little as he sidles into the room.

“Hey Gav,” Geoff calls out, holding out a hand to him. Gavin hesitates, but then walks up to him and pulls him into a gentle hug.

“Are you okay?” he asks, and Geoff nods. When they pull apart Gavin lifts a hand, falters, but when Geoff continues to stare earnestly at him, he places it gently on Geoff’s cheek, inspecting his wounds with a frown.

“Goliath,” he says, without even needing to be told.

“You know him?” Michael asks.

Gavin turns towards him. Michael’s shifted to sit at the edge of the bed. There’s something awkward in his posture, like he wants to reach out to Gavin but isn’t sure how, and after a moment Gavin goes over and hugs him as well. Even from the other side of the room Ryan sees how big Michael smiles at that, how a lingering hand trails down Gavin’s arm when they do pull apart.

Gavin gives him a small smile, but it fades quickly as he turns back to the others.

“He’s Glasgow’s best man,” he says. “Not the brightest light in the house, but if you want something dead, he’s your guy. He’s been leading Glasgow’s operations for years now. But if we take him out… the rest would be easy given how much of Glasgow’s stuff you’ve already destroyed.”

“Against all six of us he wouldn’t have a chance,” Geoff declares, very confidently for someone with a black eye. “He’s taken us by surprise all these other times. Do you know where we can find him, Gav?”

Gavin nods. “Actually, I think I might have an idea. We’ve hit back at Glasgow so much that’s he’s gotta be running low on ordnance. If you start cutting off his suppliers he’ll be forced to dig into his emergency stuff, and I know where he keeps it. Goliath is one of the only other people who does so he’ll be sent to pick it up. We can catch him by surprise.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Geoff says, glancing around at the others. “Everyone in agreement?”

“Where is this emergency stuff?” Ryan asks, and Gavin looks over at him.

“Out in the forest,” he says, which sounds very mysterious, but Achievement City is surrounded by hilly woodland areas that few gangs bother venturing into. The terrain isn’t great and there’s the danger of bobcats, so it’s pretty worthless territory. “Old storehouse. Hard to get to unless you go offroad, but I know where it is. He’s trapped it, so I wouldn’t suggest going to try and destroy it, but if he sends Goliath to get it we can definitely get him there.”

“I suggest we do that as soon as possible then,” Geoff says. He slides off the bed and winces, hand going to his side, Caleb reaching out to steady him.

“You sure you’re fit to do this?” he asks, and Geoff nods, batting him away - but Jack steps forward then too, putting a hand on Michael’s shoulder.

“You’re both injured. Four of us should be enough to handle it - we can always bring in B-Team as well.”

“No fucking way,” Geoff says, straightening up. “Glasgow’s been fucking us over for too long. I wanna be a part of this.”

“Me too,” Michael adds - Jack looks over at him and Michael stares back, eyes flashing. He’s been the one running most of the hits against Glasgow, Ryan remembers. The one out in the field as they lose more and more men. “We’re not that hurt. Bit of sleep and I’ll be fine. I want to get this fucker.”

“Okay,” Jack says. He sounds doubtful, but when Michael grabs his hand and squeezes he gives a small smile, seeming reassured. “Well, better start planning then.”

“I’ll pull up some maps,” Gavin begins, and makes to leave the room when Michael suddenly grabs his wrist, tugging him back.

“Lucky for us you know all this shit,” he says. “We actually have a way to take him down now.”

Gavin looks a bit surprised, but after a moment he gives a small smile.

“I guess it is,” he says. Michael lets go of him and he hesitates a moment before leaving the room, Caleb heading out after him a moment later.

Now that they’re alone, the rest of them move in to surround Michael’s bed. Ryan reaches out and runs a hand over his bandaged arm before pulling him in to kiss the top of his head, Ray following suit. For a moment it’s just the five of them, checking in with each other, relieved that everyone’s okay. But it feels strange, without Gavin. They’re all thinking it.

“I wish he’d stayed,” Michael says abruptly, and Geoff sighs.

“After this,” he says. “After Glasgow’s gone. We work everything out. It’s already getting better.”

“You think so?” Michael asks.

“Definitely,” Geoff says firmly, and Ray nods.

“Actually, all this work against Glasgow - getting us back to normal - maybe it’s been good, us all having a bit of space to work things out,” he says. “Absence makes, or what fucking ever. I don’t like how awkward things still are between us but… I think it’s helping him see that we’re not mad at him? So if we… if we talk about this again, maybe this time he’ll believe us.”

“Absence makes,” Geoff murmurs - then nods slowly. “Yeah, I… I wasn’t sure, after I heard about all the secrets he’s been keeping. But just. Having him around here makes me want him back, so much - I think it helps me to get over it. After this is done,” he says determinedly, “We’ll talk about it. Work things out. No more putting it off. There are scarier things in the world than a fucking conversation.”

“Like giant bald men lurking in the woods?” Michael mutters, and grins when that makes Ryan snort. “But yeah, Geoff, I agree.”

They all look to Ryan then, and he smiles and raises his hands.

“I was about to try and convince you all that it _was_ time to talk, so no complaints from me,” he says, and Jack reaches out and squeezes his arm. His eyes are shining and it makes Ryan want to hug him - there’s nothing stopping him, so he does, reeling Jack in and squeezing him tight. Feels Ray press against his back a moment later.

Maybe it’s 3 a.m. and the others are injured and the Glasgow crisis is coming to a head, and maybe Gavin’s still not here. But once again it feels like solid _progress_.

 _Kill Goliath_. In his head the man has come to represent all this, that fucked up road trip back here with Gavin, all the problems stopping them sitting down and talking about this, the terrible anxiety about how everything’s going to turn out. _Kill him, and we can fix things_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is the final one :')


	11. Chapter 11

It’s a cold evening two days later when they go to kill Goliath.

Everything’s in place. They’ve spent the last few days either taking out or paying off all of Glasgow’s weapons suppliers (that information very helpfully provided by Gavin), and they’ve put eyes on the location of his storehouse out in the woods. Earlier this afternoon their lookouts caught wind of what Gavin identified as one of Glasgow’s vehicles heading out towards the forest, and they moved quickly to intercept.

And here they are now - split up throughout the forest, as per their plan, slowly advancing on the location.

It’s freezing out here. While the city doesn’t get much more than heavy rain, out here in the hilly forested regions it’s been snowing, and while it’s stopped for now, the ground is frosted over white and slippery with sleet, the sky grey and overcast and a damp winter chill in the air.

There isn’t much daylight left, and the quiet stillness of the forest is disconcerting. Ryan prefers the dark of cities, of shadowed alleys and the cover buildings provide. The Vagabond knows how to operate there. Here is unfamiliar territory, and he’s uncomfortable.

Which is just great since he’s got the main job of killing Goliath.

That is, if the plan works out. Ryan’s got two mercenaries with him and they approach the storage house now. He can see it through the trees - the glimmer of the lights on either side of the door, the dark shadowed figures of the two men standing guard out the front. There was a fence, earlier, but they cut through it and snuck in, and he can easily see the building now. It’s little more than a large wooden cabin in the middle of a clearing, and he gestures to the two mercs with him to stay in the cover of the undergrowth.

A raised hand. A single gesture. Two silenced gunshots ring out and the guards, taken by surprise, crumple to the ground. Ryan nods and the three of them hurry closer, the two mercs with him moving forward to drag the bodies away before all three of them settle in a patch of shrubbery nearby. They wait, breathless, but no other guards arrive.

So far, so good.

“I’m in position,” he whispers, and hears Geoff give a mumble of assent through his earpiece.

“Me too,” Jack’s voice rings out.

He’s quite close to Ryan - just behind the storage building, with his own set of guards. On the other side of Ryan is Gavin - even now, if he peers out of the bushes, he can see the other man, just at the edge of the treeline. He’s wearing a dark, mottled jacket that blends into the foliage around him in the fading light. If Ryan wasn’t looking for him, he’d be practically invisible.

The others are elsewhere, at various points in the forest they have planned out. The aim is for Goliath to get as close as possible and Ryan to take him by surprise with a single shot. But if things go wrong and he runs, the others can close in and surround him. Either way, they don’t intend to let him leave this forest alive.

Everything falls silent and still for a moment. He’s crouched, prone - his rifle heavy on his shoulder - falling into that peculiar calm that always comes with getting in the zone for a job. His heart is pounding fast, but his breathing is slow and steady-

And then his heart skips as he hears the sudden, distant rattle of gunfire from further out in the forest, where he knows Michael and Ray are stationed.

“Shit,” he hears Ray hiss in his ear, and then the sharp crack of a rifle shot over his end of the comm.

“Ray?” Geoff asks, sharply. “What’s going on?”

“Fuck, they must’ve known we were coming - I need to move,” Ray snaps, and there’s a commotion on his end.

“There’s a lot of them,” Michael says, voice tight. “We’re outnumbered, we gotta retreat - there’s Goliath and a bunch of dudes and they’re on the lookout, they’re fucking searching for us as they come in- oh, fuck.”

“Michael?” Geoff sounds alarmed and Ryan’s barely holding still. “Hang on, I’ll bring my guys around to back you up. Jack, you come too. Ryan and Gav, stay in position.”

“Why?” Ryan says - the immediate urge is there to get over to the action, to protect his boys.

“Goliath’s still coming your way,” Michael manages to blurt out. “Could still get him-”

The gunfire drowns out whatever he was gonna say next. It’s coming both from his end of the earpiece as well as from the surrounding forest, more of it ringing out in the woods. A fluttering mess of birds burst up into the air, screeching at the disruption.

“Haywood?” the woman next to Ryan hisses. “What’s the plan?”

“You heard Geoff,” he says, distracted as he tries to piece together what’s happening - Geoff’s barking orders to his men, and he can hear Jack heading over to Michael and Ray too now. “We stay here and take out Goliath when he comes. We’d better move somewhere less obvious first - fuck, there goes the element of surprise.”

He leads the way as the three of them shuffle deeper into the trees. It sounds like Goliath’s coming from the other side of the forest - shit, he must have a hell of a lot of guys with him if they’re keeping the others so busy.

“Ryan,” he hears Gavin say, quietly, in his ear, nearly drowned out by everything else that’s going on.

“Stay where you are, Gavin,” he replies, though he glances over at where the other man was hiding before. There’s no sign of him - the sun’s sinking, the light steadily fading, and the cover of darkness is enough to conceal him completely. He’s on his own, no other men with him - meant to be supporting Ryan from the other side of the clearing - but it makes Ryan worry for him, alone over there. He shoves it away. _Stick to the plan_.

They seem to crouch there forever, listening to the continuous gunfire and muffled shouting from out in the forest. In the hilly area the sounds echo around, make it hard to tell how close they are, and it doesn’t help that it’s getting darker and darker - and colder, too. The adrenaline’s flooding most of it out but Ryan’s fingers are growing a bit numb and he rubs his hands furiously together. The last thing he needs is a stiff trigger finger.

Finally they see lights in the distance, through the trees. Ryan straightens up and he feels the two mercenaries stiffen on either side of him.

Goliath’s so huge that it’s hard for him to move anywhere stealthily. He’s also making no effort to, barging straight into the clearing with half a dozen men behind him, moving with a purpose. He barrels right past where Gavin’s hiding and pauses, looking around the clearing, the flashlight on the end of his gun sweeping across the area.

“They’re not here yet,” he growls out, apparently unaware that there were meant to be guards on the door.

“Do it,” the woman next to Ryan whispers; he furiously jerks a hand at her. He doesn’t have a clear shot yet.

“They might be,” another of the men calls out. “Search the area?”

“Yeah,” Goliath agrees. “Wouldn’t put it past Free to have told them about this place, the little bitch.”

“They’re gonna search,” the woman hisses, “Do it now!”

“Shut up,” Ryan whispers back through clenched teeth; she’s distracting him and it’s _patience_ he needs now, more than anything. One clean shot is their best bet to get out of this without making an even bigger mess of things - but he can feel her trembling next to him and knows she’s lost her nerve. In the eerie twilight Goliath’s size seems magnified; his pale, bald head gleaming in the torchlight, like some beast from a horror movie. “Just wait-”

Too late. One of the torches sweeps towards where they’re crouching as Goliath’s people start to search the area, and before he can stop her the mercenary is springing to her feet and firing wildly.

Goliath throws himself to the ground, his people closing in to protect him and shooting back instantly. Ryan’s still crouched in the grass - one hand outstretched, frozen - but the merc’s shots, though they felled one of Goliath’s men and seem to have injured another, have drawn attention to their position. It’s only a second later that a bullet catches her in the throat and she crumples to the ground next to him.

“Move, move,” he hisses, grabbing the remaining man and shoving him to the side. Bullets pepper the ground around them as they scramble to their feet and sprint for their lives, Ryan turning over his shoulder to fire back into the clearing. He hits one man, who drops to the ground, but he can already see Goliath rising to his feet and shooting after them, and is forced to dive behind the thick trunk of a nearby tree for cover.

The other mercenary is not so lucky. He falls with a scream and Ryan flinches, pressing himself back against the tree, feeling it shake as bullets slam into it from the other side.

“Get back,” he hears Goliath roar suddenly, and the gunfire fades a little. He catches his breath, dares to peek out from behind the tree - he’s close to the storage building and it’s blocking his view; he can’t see what’s going on-

“Ryan,” Gavin says in his ear. “Ryan, they’re moving back, I don’t know what-”

And then the explosion hits.

Honestly, Ryan doesn’t even quite realise what happens. One second he’s standing there, the next he’s flying through the air and landing heavily on the ground a good few metres away. A blinding flash of light seems to have pierced through his skull; his ears are ringing and his head _hurts_ , a building, crushing pressure that makes it feel like it’s about to explode. He can taste blood.

_What… the fuck…_

He can’t hear anything, and for a moment he can’t move - can only lie there, trying to get his breath back, taking stock of himself. _Ribs hurt - but I can breathe fine. Bit my tongue - that’s where that blood’s from. No sharp pain, just a lot of aches. Okay. I’m okay. I’m okay_.

Finally he heaves himself upright. Pain stabs through his chest as he sits up and he gasps, but pushes it to the back of his mind, forcing himself to look around.

The storage building is gone.

There must have been charges planted in it, to stop anyone else getting their hands on it in case of this happening. And it seems Goliath thought it’d be a fantastic idea to effectively use it as a giant bomb to wipe out anyone who might be hiding nearby. Nothing’s left of the building but a smouldering wreck, burned ruins that are already crumbling apart. The surrounding forest is on fire, the closest trees blasted right out of the ground. Ryan can hear screams - it seems not all of Goliath’s men got away from the danger zone in time.

He stands, panting, staring at the destruction. His earpiece is screaming static into his ear but he can barely hear it through the ringing.

And then Goliath emerges from the smoke and blaze, striding towards him like some unholy demon coming forth from hell. His face is set in an ugly sneer and he’s already lifting a gun as he catches sight of Ryan.

 _Shit_.

Ryan reaches for his own rifle only to realise it’s gone. He must have dropped it in the blast. He glances around, sees nothing around that’s remotely helpful, and makes the tactical decision to _run for his fucking life_.

When he takes a step pain stabs through his side and his vision blurs, everything seeming to tilt around him - but he pushes on, stumbling through the forest into the cover of the undergrowth. He can hear the crackling of the flames behind him and the air smells thick with smoke. It’s hard to breathe under his mask. But even if he isn’t moving that fast, the tangled darkness of the trees is enough to hide him, and when he looks back over his shoulder all he can see is the distant red glow of the fire.

No Goliath.

He pauses, pressed back against a tree, breathing heavily. Pulls his mask off, spits out a mouthful of blood, and lifts his shirt to inspect his side. There’s a dark bruise that hurts like hell when he presses on it, but nothing’s actually broken, even if his skin is grazed and bleeding where he skidded along the ground.

“Shit,” he hisses. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Well, this has all gone horribly wrong.

He takes his backup gun out - it’s a smaller pistol but a gun’s a gun - and his knife in his other hand. His ears pop and they’re still buzzing faintly, but he can hear Geoff’s voice, cloudy and distant like he’s speaking underwater.

“Geoff?” Ryan hisses. “Geoff, come in.”

“-yan?” the other man’s voice says. There’s so much background noise Ryan can barely hear him. Jack, Michael and Ray’s comms are gone entirely and Ryan has no idea what’s happening on the other side of the forest, except that he can still hear the occasional burst of gunfire even over the ringing in his ears. “-....to the…-back…. -over here-”

Ryan’s concentrating, trying to make out what he’s saying over the crackle of static, and he’s so distracted that by the time he notices the man leaping towards him out of the darkness, it’s too late.

The butt of the man’s rifle smashes into the side of his head, sending him crumpling to the ground. His earpiece falters into screeching static, sparks jumping out of it hot enough to sting his skin. For a moment he lies, dazed - his ears are ringing again and the blow to the head has his vision swirling with colourful flashing lights. They clear just in time for him to roll onto his back and dazedly register the man looming over him.

It’s not Goliath. It’s one of his mercenaries, face streaked with soot and grime, blood running down the sides of his head from either ear, obviously having been caught in the explosion. His face is set in a desperate sneer as he raises his rifle again and sends it slamming down towards Ryan’s head.

He barely rolls out of the way in time.

The man must be out of ammo otherwise he’d’ve shot him when he was down. He stumbles, caught off balance by Ryan dodging, and Ryan - lying dazed on the ground - has the presence of mind to realise he’s still clutching his knife in his hand and bring it up to slash across the man’s side.

He’s not wearing body armour. The blade wrenches through flesh and the man _screams_ , knees buckling as he falls on top of Ryan. He’s heavy and Ryan cries out, the breath squashed out of him. The man’s elbow digs into his injured side and for a moment everything flashes white-

But somehow, he manages to bring the knife up and jam it into the man’s gut. He feels him shudder and jerk, blood spilling out hot and sticky over Ryan’s hands, soaking into his shirt. The mercenary struggles to get away but Ryan wraps an arm up around him and yanks him down, the knife twisting in deeper. The man might be screaming. It’s hard to tell when his ears are still throbbing and everything sounds faintly muffled.

They seem to lie there forever. The man jerking now and then, and Ryan holding him still until his arms ache, crushed under his weight, blood slowly spreading between both of them. But finally the man gives a final shudder and falls still, and Ryan painfully rolls him off and sucks in a wheezing breath as the pressure on his chest disappears.

 _Fuck. Fuck. Jesus Christ_.

It’s freezing here in the forest, and dark, and Ryan can only lie there panting, eyes squeezed shut. Everything feels sticky and all he can smell is blood and smoke. He’s covered in it, his shirt wringing wet, the hilt of the knife slippery in his hand.

He barely has time to catch his breath before his ears clear and he hears something - shouting nearby. He’s inclined to dismiss it as his ears playing up, or the general chaos of the whole situation, but something about it makes him sit up - pay attention - listen out.

It’s hard to make out what's happening. But he hears a voice cry out and suddenly, with a jolt, he recognises it.

 _Gavin_.

Ryan’s on his feet in an instant. He stumbles, dizzy, but pulls himself together, wiping his hands and getting a proper grip on his knife and gun. He staggers in the direction of the noise and as he pushes through the forest it gets louder - yells, grunts, the snapping crunches of twigs and branches.

He bursts out into a clearing. Without trees covering the sky there’s a little more moonlight to see by - along with the beam of light from a torch lying on the ground nearby.

And there is Goliath.

He’s got Gavin by the throat and as Ryan watches he flings him to the ground. Gavin catches himself, already pulling himself to his feet, but barely is he upright than Goliath strides towards him and grabs him by the wrist again. He’s so big that a single yank of his arm is enough to throw Gavin sideways and send him crashing to the ground. As Ryan watches Goliath kicks Gavin hard - he curls up, arms rising to protect his head as Goliath kicks him again.

Ryan raises his gun, but Goliath has crouched down now, hands moving to grab Gavin by the throat. He must be out of ammo too or he’d’ve shot him by now, Ryan thinks - it gives him a better chance, but Goliath’s too close to Gavin and they’re both moving now as Gavin struggles under him and Goliath tries to grab his arms. He can’t get a clean shot.

There’s only one thing to do.

“ _Goliath_!” Ryan hollers.

It’s not as loud as he hoped. His voice is hoarse and weak, scratchy from all the smoke he’s breathed in.

But it’s enough. Goliath jolts in surprise, straightening up and spinning to face Ryan, and Ryan fires.

The shot hits Goliath square in the chest and he falls back and for a hysterical moment, Ryan actually thinks he’s done it. But he quickly realises that Goliath’s wearing body armour, bulky under the rest of his clothes, and all the shot’s done is slow him down. In fact, he still has a grip on Gavin’s hair and in falling he’s yanked the other man down on top of him.

Ryan hurries in to finish off the job, but Goliath’s a tough son of a bitch. A gunshot at that range is enough to crack ribs even through a bulletproof vest, but he’s already sitting up and Ryan can see that he’s got a hand around Gavin’s neck now, pulling him up in front of him, effectively making him a human shield.

For a moment, a cold vice clenches around Ryan’s chest. Goliath’s so strong he could snap Gavin’s neck in an instant, if he had a mind to.

He thinks quickly. Goliath’s got Gavin pulled across his chest, but his legs are sticking out and Ryan quickly switches aim and fires at them. He’s hoping for a kneecap but his hands are shaking and he hits him in the thigh instead.

It’s enough. Goliath yells, grip loosening, and Gavin jerks himself free, rolling away across the icy ground. Ryan stumbles forward to shoot him in the head, but a sudden wave of dizziness passes over him and as he struggles to aim, Goliath - and _fuck,_ can nothing stop this guy - reaches out and grabs him by the ankle, his giant hand closing around Ryan’s leg and yanking hard, sending him flailing backwards.

He hits the ground hard and it knocks the wind out of him again. Goliath’s dragging one leg behind him but even now he crawls up over Ryan, pinning him down.

He’s enormous. His weight is enough to make Ryan wheeze, and he cries out when a knee digs down hard into his stomach. Goliath’s already got a hand on his wrist, twisting as they struggle for control of the gun. In the flashes of light from the torch Goliath seems even more terrifying; ghostly pale with blood trailing down from under his nose, staining his bared teeth red.

He brings his free hand up and abruptly punches Ryan across the face. Ryan feels a tooth loosen and his mouth fill with blood again; the blow dazes him and he loses his grip on the gun. He feels Goliath start to grab for it and in a panic brings the knife up and stabs him in the chest-

To no avail. His body armour makes the blow glance sideways; there wasn’t enough force behind it, not with Ryan injured as he is, head spinning. His hands fall limp to his sides even as Goliath picks up the gun, he doesn’t know what to _do_ -

Then a dark shadow rises up over them and there’s a sudden, horrible crack. Goliath falls sideways, off Ryan, who can only stare.

Gavin’s standing over them. He’s clutching a thick, dead branch, and when Ryan looks over at Goliath he can see blood at the back of his head where Gavin struck him.

But he’s _still_ not down - he’s already stumbling to his feet. Ryan snatches up the gun and fires at him, but he’s so disoriented by now that he misses completely and Goliath breaks into a staggering jog, retreating away out of the clearing.

“Fuck,” Ryan hisses, pulling himself to his feet. His vision goes black for a moment and he sways, but gathers himself. The brisk coldness of the night air helps to shock him awake a bit more and his vision clears up just in time to see Gavin sway and then slump sideways to the ground.

“Gav!” He’s by his side in an instant, tugging him upright - Gavin steadies himself, clutching at Ryan’s arm. He’s not actually unconscious, Ryan realises - and Gavin looks up at him then, something desperate in his eyes.

“Go after him,” he says - his voice is scratchy and raw too.

“Are you-”

“I’m _fine_ , Ryan - go kill him!” He shoves weakly at Ryan, who hesitates - but when he glances over Gavin, he’s not bleeding too badly anywhere and still seems quite alert, so after a moment he nods and hardens himself up again.

“Okay. Stay here.”

He doesn’t look back as he goes and snatches the torch up off the ground before limping off in the direction that Goliath went.

Neither of them can move very fast, injured as they are. The ground is slippery with melting snow and Ryan’s constantly stumbling over rocks and roots. He struggles his way through several more bushy areas before he finally emerges from the worst of the thickets and catches sight of Goliath.

He’s standing some distance away, paused to rest - one hand bracing himself against a tree, right at the edge of a steep incline that falls away beside him. He’s favouring the leg that Ryan shot earlier - God, it has to be killing him - and even from this distance Ryan can see his chest heaving.

Unfortunately he’s made so much noise crashing around that Goliath looks up and sees the light of the torch. In an instant Ryan’s got the gun up. He fires - and he can’t tell if he hit Goliath or just startled him, but a second later the enormous man is falling away over the side of the hill.

“Shit,” Ryan hisses. He staggers to the edge and looks down - he can hear crashing thuds as Goliath tumbles down, but it’s so dark he can’t _see_.

He can’t just leave him.

Number one rule of a hit. Make sure your target is fucking _dead_. If they’re not they can come back, and that’s not pretty for anyone. Gritting his teeth, he gingerly starts to step down the steep slope, but it’s so slippery with sleet that a moment later he loses his footing and begins an awkward sort of slide down, bumping and rolling occasionally against hard rocks and uneven ground.

He lands heavily at the bottom and stumbles upright. The impact is jarring but he recovers quickly and casts the torch about just in time to see Goliath, who was lying in a heap nearby, start to sit up-

Only to crumple back when Ryan raises the gun and finally, _finally_ shoots him in the head.

He drops to his knees, breathing heavily as everything falls silent and still around him. Down here at the bottom of the hill the ground is covered by damp patches of melting snow and scattered piles of dead leaves. The air here smells cleaner, like pine and wet earth, and for a moment he heaves in sobbing breaths before crawling forward to look at Goliath.

The bullet caught him under the chin and emerged out the back of his skull. The blood pooling under him is a stark red against the snow, his pale eyes staring lifelessly up at the sky.

 _Dead,_ Ryan realises, and could laugh hysterically if he had the energy for it. _He’s dead, he’s dead. I did it_.

He slumps back against the ground, the tension finally leaching from his body suddenly enough to make his muscles ache. The forest is eerily silent around him, and it takes a moment for him to realise that it’s because the sound of gunfire has stopped - everywhere. He can’t hear a thing. No shouting, no explosions, not a single shot.

The fear hits him suddenly.

_The others - where the fuck are the others?_

Michael, Ray, Jack - he hasn’t heard from them since the operation went to shit. His hand goes to his ear automatically but his comm is long gone and he curses, feeling almost sick suddenly as he realises he has no idea if the others are dead or alive.

 _Gavin,_ he thinks - the other man’s the closest one in the forest to him. _I need to find Gavin_.

He heaves himself to his feet. Now that the adrenaline’s run down everything seems to hurt twice as much, but he pushes his aches and pains away and focuses on trekking back up the hill. It seems to take forever; he keeps slipping and eventually ends up crawling on his hands and knees until he reaches the top. By then he’s completely out of breath and he pauses.

It’s so dark that he can’t see a thing without the torch. The distant fire has the sky lit up an eerie, blistered red, trails of smoke still curling up into the air. But it’s not enough to see by - the trees around him are an ominous black mess, and his stomach drops at the thought of Gavin in there somewhere without a light.

He heads back towards where the clearing was, but he’s all turned around and can’t tell if he’s going the right way. His torch is falling on nothing but trees and more trees, not a soul in sight.

“Gavin?” he calls out, finally. His voice cracks and he swallows a few times. His mouth tastes like ash and is dry as bone. “Gav? You out there?”

No answer. It feels awkward yelling into the silence but he pushes on, stumbling through the thickets.

“Gavin? _Gavin_!”

He hears a rustle in the trees next to him and pauses, hand going to his gun even as he inches closer.

“Gavin?” he calls out, more quietly.

“Ryan?” a small voice cries back, and Ryan’s never been so damn relieved to hear his name in his life.

“Gav!” He breaks into a stumbling jog, sweeping the torch frantically about - until finally it falls on Gavin, sitting at the edge of the clearing with his back against one of the trees and his knees pulled up to his chest. He throws up a hand, flinching away from the light, and Ryan hurries over to him, collapsing on the ground beside him.

“Gav. _Gav_. Are you okay?”

He’s got Gavin’s hands in his before he even quite realises what he’s doing, running him over for injury. Gavin’s face is swollen and bruised, his lip bleeding, and he winces a bit when Ryan presses a hand to his ribs. But he’s just as concerned with how injured Ryan is, pushing him back a little and taking the torch for himself so he can look him over.

“I’m fine,” Gavin repeats finally, “Are you okay? The explosion-”

“I wasn’t too close to it,” Ryan assures him. “I ran into some other guy - killed him - Goliath had a good go at me but I’m fine. How did you get away?”

“After that building blew up I saw Goliath going off to look for you and followed him,” Gavin says. “He ran out of bullets shooting at me but I lost my gun in the blast. He wasn’t very happy about me selling out Glasgow.”

“He’s dead now,” Ryan says.

“You killed him?”

Ryan nods and Gavin lets out a hysterical laugh. He’s still holding on to the front of Ryan’s jacket and for a moment all they can do is sit, clinging to each other. It’s very cold out here in the dark but all Ryan can feel is _relieved_. He’s got one arm around Gavin - can feel him shaking - and even if everything hurts, he’s just glad that they’re here together. That he’s not alone.

That it’s _Gavin_ here, with him.

Gavin’s laughter trails off and they fall into an exhausted silence.

“We should go find the others,” Ryan says finally. “You have your comm?”

Gavin shakes his head.

“Fell out when I was fighting with Goliath. He stepped on it so it’s hardly gonna work now. I, um.” He pauses, bites his lip, then admits, “I don’t think I can move.”

“What?” Ryan’s instantly sweeping the torch over him again. “You said you were fine!”

“Nothing life threatening,” Gavin adds hurriedly. “It’s possible that when that building exploded I fell out of the tree I was in and fucked up my ankle. Goliath kicking my ass didn’t really help. It was hard enough following him here.”

“Shit,” Ryan says. “I can carry you?”

“You’re injured yourself,” Gavin cuts in. “Don’t risk making it worse."

“Shit,” Ryan repeats. There’s a tense silence before he starts to stand up. “We need to find them, if you stay here I can-”

“No!” Gavin’s shout sounds too loud, echoing through the silent forest. He grabs Ryan’s wrist and Ryan stops short in surprise, staring down at him. Gavin’s eyes are wide and he seems startled, like he didn’t expect his own reaction - but he doesn’t let go of Ryan’s arm.

“No,” he repeats, softer. “Just… don’t go. Please?”

Ryan stares at him and after a moment Gavin bites his lip and starts to pull back, but Ryan quickly crouches next to him again.

“Hey,” he says. “I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

Gavin darts an uncertain, sidelong glance at him, and Ryan settles beside him, leaning back against the tree with a sigh as the position relieves some of the pressure on his aching legs and bruised ribs.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he repeats. And then, mock-sternly, “Don’t you go anywhere either.”

A ghost of a smile crosses Gavin’s lips.

“I won’t,” he whispers, and Ryan smiles back. After a moment - and ignoring the way his heart starts pounding, how he feels as nervous as he did right back at the beginning when he got together with Ray, then Michael, Geoff and Jack and finally _Gavin_ for the first time - he puts an arm around Gavin’s shoulders. He feels Gavin stiffen in surprise - but almost immediately the other man sinks against his side. It’s so cold here in the forest that it isn’t long before they’re pressed close together, and it feels _right_ \- after so long keeping their distance from each other, it’s still somehow so easy to fall back together.

The silence isn’t awkward now, even if it’s getting darker and darker around them as the light from the fire fades away. Ryan barely even notices. He’s so tired that it’s easy to fall into an exhausted lull, conscious only of the warmth of Gavin’s body and his slight weight against Ryan’s side.

His eyes must slip shut at some point because the next thing he knows Gavin is jostling him.

“Ryan,” he hisses. “Ryan, wake up.”

“‘m not sleeping,” Ryan replies, eyes snapping open as he fumbles for his gun. “What is it, what-”

He breaks off as Gavin points and he looks up, breath catching. Up through the bare branches of the trees, a bright yellow light is arcing up against the black night sky, trailing saffron smoke behind it. It’s followed seconds later by another - bright pink this time.

“Oh my God,” he breathes - it’s like a kick in the chest, the hope that suddenly swells up in him. “Flares - it’s the others, it has to be.”

“Of course,” Gavin says, and Ryan can practically hear the smile in his voice. “Only Ray likes those hot pink ones.”

“They’re out there then - they must’ve finished off all Goliath’s men or they wouldn’t risk sending up a signal.” Ryan’s already scrambling to his feet. “They’ve gotta be looking for us! Do we have any to send back?”

“I… fuck, I had some in my bag, it’s back where the building was,” Gavin says. Ryan looks over at him but he’s sitting up, head tipped back, staring up at the fading trails of smoke. There’s something transfixed in his gaze, like it’s a shooting star he’s just seen. After a moment he shakes himself and looks back over at Ryan. “I dropped it when the bomb went off.”

“The building’s not far.” Ryan picks up the torch and hesitates. “I can go get them. I’ll come straight back.”

“Okay.” Gavin’s staring at him calmly, no fear in his voice now, and Ryan pauses a moment longer before abruptly leaning in and pressing their lips together. Gavin barely hesitates before kissing back - it’s quick, and his lips feel cold, but Ryan’s heart is still pounding when he pulls back and after a moment Gavin’s lips twitch up into a smile.

“Hurry up then, love,” he says. “Don’t leave me sitting here in the dark.”

Ryan nods jerkily and hurries away, moving as fast as he can back towards the wreckage of the storage building. His heart is slamming in his chest and after a moment he realises how widely he’s grinning. He forces himself to stop, focused on his mission. Pausing to rest for a bit helped and he can move much more quickly now.

The smouldering wreck of the building smells terrible, the tang of gunpowder in the air along with charcoal and the unmistakable stink of blood and burned flesh. When he casts his torch around, the beam falls across the charred forms of the people who were too close to the building when it blew up. Ryan swallows, bile rising in his throat, before hurrying over to where Gavin had been hiding.

It’s not hard to find his fallen backpack and when he opens it to check, he could sob with relief at the sight of the flare gun. Before long he’s on his way back-

Only to hesitate as he approaches the clearing.

He’d kissed Gavin on impulse and while the other man certainly didn’t seem to mind, Ryan suddenly has doubts. Maybe it was the heat of the moment, the stress of everything that happened-

 _Stop that_ , he thinks, kicking himself. _Fucking stop that. Enough, okay? This has gone on for too long._ Enough.

He returns to Gavin, who perks up at the sight of him. He looks nervous, but reaches out for the bag eagerly and checks the flare gun before nodding.

“Do the honours?” he offers, but Ryan shakes his head.

“You can,” he says, and Gavin smiles. He lifts an arm above his head and fires a red flare off into the sky. They watch it soar away, rising in a neat arc before falling back down. Seconds later, another yellow flare rises up from elsewhere in the forest, closer this time.

“They saw it,” Ryan says, and laughs, relieved. “They saw it! They’re coming.”

“Good,” Gavin says smiling. He settles back against Ryan’s side seemingly without thinking about it and Ryan looks down at him. His chest feels tight suddenly and he swallows hard.

“I love you,” he blurts out, and feels Gavin stiffen.

“I mean it,” he says - Gavin’s sat up a little and isn’t looking at him, but he doesn’t seem upset. “I love you. We all do. And… and we miss you so much.”

Gavin’s quiet for a moment. He’s breathing heavily and after a moment Ryan hears him sniff.

“I miss you too,” he says, so softly Ryan can barely hear it.

“We’ve said sorry enough,” Ryan continues. “Just… please let us fix this. I know you want to have a big conversation about it but… we all know what we want. All that’s ever mattered is that we’re here, we’re all _here_ and we care about each other and we _want this_ , okay? Conversations can come later, just… stop pushing us away.”

Gavin turns to him, finally, and Ryan steadfastly meets his eyes as he reaches out and presses his arm.

“We saved each other’s lives tonight,” he says. “Maybe I don’t like the secrets, but you did what you did to protect us. I do trust you. Okay?”

He sees Gavin swallow, hard. Then let out a slow stream of foggy breath. He looks away, then darts a little glance back up at Ryan and seems almost surprised to see him still watching him. Finally, he nods.

“Okay,” he whispers back, and with that single word it’s like all the air rushes out of him, like the pressure that’s been bearing down on all of them for too long now has suddenly been released. He collapses forward into Ryan’s arms and they’re hugging properly at last, heedless of their wounds, clinging desperately to each other. Ryan’s throat hurts and he tells himself it’s from the smoke, that the cold is why he can’t stop shaking-

But then Gavin presses his face against Ryan’s neck, leans up to his ear and whispers “I love you too,” and he can’t help the choked sob that he lets out, especially when Gavin adds, “I never stopped.”

“Me either,” he manages, and squeezes Gavin tighter, leaning in to press a kiss to the top of his head. Then another, then to his bruised forehead, then draws back a little and pulls him in to kiss him properly. Gavin kisses back, lips working furiously against his, hands fisted tightly in the front of Ryan’s shirt. Ryan’s grasping the sides of his head but he can’t stop himself running a hand through Gavin’s hair, then down his back, feeling so suddenly starved for touch that he can’t help it.

When they finally break apart they’re both breathing heavily, but don’t let go of each other. Gavin’s staring up at Ryan with something tentative in it but Ryan can’t help but stare back at him earnestly. He probably looks a mess - face bloody and bruised, paint all rubbed away, covered in ash and grime - but it must show in his face, the pure relief, the pure _affection_ , and after a moment Gavin relaxes and smiles back. And _that’s_ the Gavin Ryan knows. He can see it, the shy but sincere love in his eyes that reminds him of their happiest moments. Quiet mornings waking up next to each other, or all six of them sprawled exhausted in bed after a successful heist. And he knows in that moment that Gavin was right. Everything that mattered was _real_.

Another two flares light up the sky above them, so close now that their faces are lit up in the glare of it. Pink and gold. Gavin’s face breaks into a smile and he huddles into Ryan’s side, arms wrapped around him and head resting on his chest, as they wait for the others together.

 

* * *

 

For the first time in weeks, things are quiet back at the base.

With Goliath and most of his men gone, Glasgow seems to have hit pause on his plans for now, and it’s a much needed breather for all of them. Not just the main crew but B-Team, all the hired guns and other people working for them - to finally have everyone go back to their own homes is a relief, and it’s nice not to be on constant high-alert. To know that they have the building to themselves again as they settle back into the living quarters.

Ryan’s lying in the bed of their shared room, his head against Jack’s shoulder, watching Geoff stick new band-aids over his scrapes in front of the mirror on the other end of the room, and Michael bandage Ray’s arm at the end of the bed. They’re all clean and warm now, feeling safe in the light of their own home again.

The ambush had kept the others busy for over an hour in the forest, and the explosion had startled everybody and only made the rest of the mercenaries scatter, leaving the others hunting them down for ages. They lost some hired guns but Ryan’s just thanking God that no one else was too seriously hurt - Ray’s shoulder was nicked by a bullet and everyone has the usual assorted scrapes and grazes, and Michael’s ribs are bruised where he took a bullet to his body armour, but otherwise, they’ve made it out of it alive.

Everyone was so exhausted that their reunion in the dark forest was little more than a confused jumble of desperate hugs before Kdin came along to pick them up and most of them fell asleep on the way back. It didn’t help that they were all freezing from so long spent out in the woods at night, especially with their injuries.

But they’re home now - they’re _home_ \- and with Jack’s hand running through his hair and Michael smiling at him as he crawls up to settle on Ryan’s other side, for the first time in a long time he doesn’t feel like they’re on the brink of a crisis, whether it be Glasgow-related or Gavin-related.

Speaking of Gavin.

He was showering, earlier, down the hall, but they all pause what they’re doing now as they hear the creak of the bathroom door. Geoff glances over at Ryan, meeting his eyes, before he moves over to the door and opens it, waiting for Gavin to go by. Ray sits up straighter, Michael’s breath catching as they all turn to watch.

“Gavin?” Geoff calls out as he passes. Ryan hears his footsteps pause in the corridor. From this angle he can’t see out the doorway, but he sees Geoff lean forward. “Come in here, bud.”

There’s a pause - but only a moment later Gavin’s shuffling in with Geoff’s arm around him, limping a little with his bandaged ankle. Ryan feels a crushing relief. He’d been worried - of course he was - that when they got back to the base all Gavin’s doubts would return. But Gavin, though he looks tired and a bit nervous now, isn’t guarded and tense like he used to be, and he can see a slow grin spreading across Ray’s face, Geoff’s too.

It’s the first time in a long time all of them have been in one room without it being a planning meeting or a briefing session. It feels right.

“Before you joined us,” Geoff continues, “When we finished a heist or a job and it was all of us in here together and you alone out there… it didn’t feel right. Like fuck if I’m about to let that happen again.”

Gavin gives a small smile.

“Okay,” he says quietly.

“No, I mean it,” Geoff insists. “We want you back. We miss you.”

Gavin bites his lip. He looks up at Geoff - then glances across at the rest of them, watching him earnestly - then finally at Ryan, who stares steadily back at him. Something flickers in Gavin’s eyes and he steps away from Geoff to the centre of the room, addressing all of them.

“You need to know what you’re getting into with this,” he says, voice serious but not unkind. “I lied about a lot of things. I let my loyalty to Burnie take first place over my honesty to you. And in this… this thing, with all six of us, honesty is something we really bloody need.”

“We understand that,” Jack says, quietly. “We’ve all been thinking about it. And I think we’ve all come to terms with what you did.”

“You need to be _sure_ ,” Gavin insists, and it’s Michael he’s looking at, now. Ryan looks over at him too - Michael’s silent, which is so unusual for him that it’s always a bit unsettling when it happens. Ray’s gripping his hand where he’s sitting on the bed next to him. Michael’s watching Gavin, but he doesn’t look _uncertain_ now, not like he did before. There’s a steady fondness in his eyes that, after a second, makes Gavin’s own uncertainty fade away a bit.

“Gavin,” Geoff says, stepping towards him again and reaching out to grab his hand. “Like I said. It didn’t feel the same without you before you joined us, and it doesn’t fucking feel the same without you now. Look, it’s been weeks. All the truths are out there now, aren’t they?”

“Yes,” Gavin replies after a moment. “They are.”

“You protected us. And I’m mad at Burnie but I get why he did what he did. I’m not impressed about the situation but I don’t blame you and after seeing just how much of a reach Glasgow has, I think I can forgive Burnie, too.” Geoff huffs out a laugh and squeezes Gavin’s hand. “After nearly dying so many times at the hands of that asshole I think we can do better than to hold a grudge.”

Gavin’s lips twitch.

“Exactly,” Jack adds, and Gavin’s head turns towards him. He’s smiling, his usual kind, gentle presence. Ryan hasn’t seen him interact with Gavin much over the last few weeks - was too busy avoiding both of them - but he can tell from the softness in Gavin’s eyes that Jack is the one person who he never doubted wanted him, even if he thought he might not deserve it. “To me, you’re very strong to be able to do everything you did. Sure, I don’t like that we were played for fools, but I still love you.”

“I love you too,” Gavin replies, and it used to be something they said so routinely but now the mere words make all the others light up, and Ryan start to grin, realising that what happened back there in the forest was no fluke.

“You know all those superhero shows where their friends finally find out the secret identity and get all mad?” is Ray’s valuable contribution to the conversation. “It’s kinda like that, isn’t it. They’re angry for a bit but then they realise it’s all for, like, the greater good and shit.”

Gavin scoffs out a laugh.

“I’m not a hero,” he says, and Ray shrugs.

“That’s a good thing or you’d be arresting us right now, wouldn’t you? But you get what I’m saying.”

“Yes Ray,” Gavin says, and laughs again. “I get what you’re saying.”

There’s a pause as they all seem to catch their breath. Gavin looks around at each of them in turn before glancing away and wrapping his arms around himself.

“I missed you too,” he says quietly. “But I think… maybe having some time away was good for you guys. I’m glad you understand why Burnie did it now. And if you want me back, then…”

Geoff looks ready to scream. _Of course, of course we want you back-_

But it’s Michael who moves first. Sits up on the bed and stretches out a hand to Gavin and says, simply:

“Come here, boi.”

Gavin smiles. He doesn’t hesitate, moving forward and crawling up onto the bed, meeting Michael’s lips in a kiss. It’s surprisingly gentle for the two of them, Michael’s hand coming up to cup Gavin’s cheek. Slow and steady and sweet - when they pull away Michael’s smiling as his hand slips around the back of Gavin’s neck, tugging him in until their foreheads are pressed against each other. Ryan can see, in the slump of their shoulders, that same relief he himself felt in the forest, at finally being _together_ again. Feels like coming home.

“My turn!” Ray declares, breaking the mood, and Gavin laughs as he turns towards him. Ray grabs the front of his shirt and yanks him in to kiss him, but Ryan’s more distracted by Michael.

He wishes he’d spent more time with the other man in the last few days. He was worried that he wasn’t in a good headspace to be hanging around him - thought Jack and Ray could help him more - but he’s missed him too, not being around him. And seeing Michael now, watching Gavin with his eyes shining, his lips a little reddened - Ryan wants to kiss him too, and reaches out and tugs at his arm.

“Hm?” Michael turns to him and grins at the way Ryan’s looking at him. He twists his neck around and pulls him in for a kiss as well, and Ryan lets his eyes slip shut. Surrounded by the press of his boys on every side, knowing that everyone here is finally _happy,_ is almost overwhelming after how many times in the last few weeks he thought that things could never be the same again.

Michael pulls back and Ryan opens his eyes in time to see Geoff and Jack piling back into the bed and trying to get closer to them. Elbows are digging in uncomfortable places, and everyone’s sore from the fight earlier today, and there are too many people hugging too many other people at once, or trying to in the cramped space.

But this is _them_. Clumsy and a bit painful, but what burns above all that is how much they love each other. It’s cheesy, sure, but after all the other this that he’s dealt with - both before he came here and in this last month - Ryan needs a bit of a happy ending, and all he can do is laugh and squash further into the bed to try and make room.

Maybe there’re still things to work through.

Maybe they’re still going to be too careful with each other after this, afraid of things going wrong. There are still details to work out, things Gavin has to explain to them, stories he needs to tell. But hopefully they’ll laugh about them, now. Will take them in stride rather than getting upset.

But right now, they don’t have to deal with all that.

Right now they’re safe, and they’re alive, and they’re _together_ , all six of them. And that’s what counts.

He hears Gavin’s familiar squeaky laugh and glances over to see him practically sitting in Ray’s lap, the other man’s arms wrapped around his waist as Geoff tries to kiss him without crushing Michael, who’s lying between them. Michael’s laughing too, and it’s the happiest Ryan’s seen him in weeks-

And he looks over at Jack, behind him, and meets his eyes with a smile. Jack smiles back and it’s _dazzling_ , how giddy with happiness he looks. And out of all of them, he was the one who was right all along, to trust that in the end all they needed to pull through this was to cling to the fact that they wanted to make it work, that they wanted _each other_. It’s true. Maybe the Vagabond wouldn’t believe it, but Ryan sure does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I say this every time, but this was literally not meant to get this long (it was supposed to be a oneshot aahahahAHAHAH ;A;)
> 
> Happy Christmas to Kayla who is responsible for choosing these angsty prompts:  
> “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”  
> “I haven’t been resting. I can’t sleep.“  
> “Please don’t go.“  
> “You’re hurting me.”  
> “Shit, are you bleeding?!” 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who took the time to comment, leave kudos or message me on tumblr, I really appreciate it <3 Something much fluffier is coming after this story!


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